


Bendoverwatch Kink Week

by Dracoduceus



Series: Cupid's Pony Express [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (or lack of), Against a Wall, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Centaur Hanzo Shimada, Collars, Consensual Somnophilia, Creampie, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Edging, Exhibitionism, Holding Hands, Knotting, Lingerie, M/M, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Undercover Missions, Werecat Brigitte Lindholm, Werewolf Jesse McCree, handjobs, happy endings of many kinds, scent-marking, the kinkiest of all kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: When their sources tell them of a potential drug-smuggling ring in a local night club with potential Talon ties, it is no question whether or not they should take action.The problem, Winston had explained, looking anywhere but the operatives he had painstakingly chosen for this mission,was that it was a fetish club. Winston cleared his throat, suddenly finding his notes very interesting. He slid a paper over to Hanzo who looked down at it.A fetish club looking for a centaur.So that was how Hanzo found himself applying for a job as a suggestively-clad waiter with McCree as backup and Brigitte as his assistant. That meant no sex with McCree (at least, sex in such a way that his scent might be transferred) for the entirety of the mission.It was for the greater good.And besides, they'd been through worse....right?





	1. Size difference, stockings/leggings, handjobs, (semi) public sex

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as [Ugly Sweater](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822996/chapters/39744399) in my December Prompts stories. In turn that was based off of a few things:  
> -A very nsfw [discussion about monsterfucking on twitter](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1069983679118684160)  
> -A _gorgeous_ picture of [Centaur Hanzo in lingerie](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1069982196805492736)  
> -And, because I'm weak, discussions of [Sagittarius](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1070887673852760065)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts** : Size difference, stockings/leggings, handjobs, public sex, ~~frottage~~

Hanzo’s tail twitched. “Is that your gun, cowboy, or are you just happy to see me?” 

From his position near Hanzo’s flank, McCree scowled. On his other side, Brigitte laughed as she adjusted the fit of the many straps running down Hanzo’s back and around his belly and barrel. 

“I’m behavin’!” McCree grumbled but where Brigitte couldn’t see, he reached down and ran a teasing hand along the rim of Hanzo’s hole, pressing his thumb to the pucker just to feel it twitch as if trying to suck him in. He smirked at Hanzo when he twisted to glance back at him and went back to brushing out Hanzo’s long tail. 

“I hope you are,” Brigitte teased. “Because I do  _ not _ want to see how you two do...whatever it is you do.”

Hanzo snorted. “Wrestle,” McCree told her, feigning paternal horror. “We do nothing together, we just wrestle.” 

The werecat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure,” she teased. “Just remember that if someone catches your scent on him…” 

McCree rolled his eyes and Hanzo snorted. “As if I’d let him,” Hanzo sniffed. 

“I  _ know _ the things you ‘let him’ get away with,” Brigitte shot back with a smirk as McCree grumbled about the “impudent youth”. “And I know that you two know how to behave for an undercover mission but...right foreleg please, Hanzo.” 

McCree watched Hanzo’s hindquarters rock as he shifted his weight and lifted the requested leg. “Unwarranted,” Hanzo agreed, “but the reminder is appreciated.” 

Sighing, McCree let Hanzo’s tail fall, watching it naturally fan out, the last foot or so dragging on the ground. For combat Hanzo kept it pinned up and braided so that it didn’t drag around or get caught. Most of the time around the base he kept it higher but only in private he let it down. 

In private and for this mission. 

McCree couldn’t help but be jealous and sighed, patting Hanzo’s flank as he walked around toward Brigitte. She tied off the last bit of ribbon and stepped back to let McCree inspect her work. Of nearly anyone else on base, Brigitte understood McCree’s inexplicable need to hover over Hanzo and didn’t hold it against him. 

There was no faulting her work—as always, everything was impeccable—and McCree sighed, moving around to Hanzo’s front. “How do I look?” Hanzo asked, spinning in a tight circle. 

Unable to help his jealousy, McCree made a face. Hanzo looked perfect, of course. His four legs were wrapped up in fine lace up to his elbows and hocks with complicated straps in black and blue silk. He wore a matching black collar and a black silk negligee that framed the swell of his muscles beautifully. A little panel was cut out in the front, lined with lace, in the shape of a heart. 

Stepping closer, McCree picked up the little blue silk tassel hanging from the front of the fine silk, thumb rubbing against the decorative knot at the top. “Not gonna lie, sweet,” he said roughly. “I’m feelin’ mighty jealous that everyone else gets to see my honeybee look like this.” 

Smiling, Hanzo bent his forelegs and gave McCree a soft kiss. “I had meant to surprise you with this,” he admitted. “As much as I can, of course. It’s not like I can put this on by myself.” 

“I’ll meet you outside,” Brigitte said with a coy smile. “I need to get dressed, too.” 

The door clicked closed and McCree’s arms shook as he clenched his fists. He wanted nothing more than to go up to Hanzo, to rub himself all over. Hanzo smelled so  _ strange _ , scrubbed down by Brigitte so that McCree’s scent wouldn't get all over him. McCree had helped of course, unable to keep from hovering, but he had been stuck in an itchy plastic suit. 

“You don’t know how this is killin’ me, sweet,” McCree murmured and Hanzo bent his forelegs to give him another gentle kiss. 

“For me as well,” Hanzo assured him. “I had bought this set for you. Nothing frustrates me more than to not be able to use it for its intended purpose. But—”

McCree sighed. “I know,” he told Hanzo, tapping Hanzo’s lips. “It’s hard to find centaur lingerie.” 

How many times had Hanzo told McCree this? Usually it was when McCree had gotten excited and ripped one of his sets. Everything was custom, after all.

The plus side was that the tailors were extremely discreet in regards to their client list. There were enough things counted against centaurs in the world—their choice in lingerie or undergarments need not be another.

“Damn, but do you look gorgeous in it,” McCree hissed, his tongue feeling too large for his mouth. “You got your communicator in?” He smirked when Hanzo nodded. “Get out of here before my scent sinks in. Go visit Brigitte.” 

Hanzo pouted and leaned down for one final kiss. It was easy to wash off McCree’s scent from his lips and to be safe he would eat a handful of mint and then have a meal with Brigitte before they visited the club. 

“Hanzo?” McCree asked as he opened the door. His boyfriend looked over his shoulder. “Turn on your comm. Private line 2.” 

Hanzo’s ears pricked forward and McCree could see the way that Hanzo’s muscles twitched as he shivered. 

* * *

McCree groaned, letting his legs fall wider. “Baby,” he gasped as he clenched his fist tighter around his growing knot. “Baby.” 

He watched Hanzo on the monitor, saw the twitch and flick of his tail that he only really did when he was agitated. Oh, and Hanzo was  _ agitated _ . 

Switching to the team channel, McCree said, “No tails yet. What does it look like out there?” 

“ _ You don’t need to check in so often, cowboy, _ ” Brigitte said with some amusement. “ _ I know it’s basically your kink, but he’s in good hands. _ ” 

McCree switched back to the private line. “What do you think of the fact that I’m speaking to you like this?” He toggled through the security vids along the route, keeping an eye on pedestrian traffic. Centaurs were unusual in the city so they also had to keep an eye out that he wasn’t recognized on the way to the club. “With my hand around my knot for you?”

Hanzo couldn’t say anything in reply, not with Brigitte walking beside him as his attendant. But what he could see of his boyfriend, he was affected. His hind legs lifted just a little higher, his tail moved just a bit more. 

“There’s a thought,” McCree continued, groaning as he rubbed the bulge of his knot. “Maybe I’ll put a vibrator in you, huh? Watch you walk pretty with that rattling around in you.” 

In the monitors, McCree saw Brigitte look over at Hanzo and put a hand on his blanketed shoulder. “ _ I’m fine _ ,” Hanzo said, the comm picking up the words. “ _ Just...nervous, I suppose. _ ” 

Brigitte said something again. 

“Ain’t nothing to be nervous about,” McCree purred. “You’ll captivate them. Get them all hot and bothered. Make them want to make you theirs but we all know where you’ll be at the end of the night, hm?” He let Hanzo hear him groan, breath hitching as his hand works over his knot as it begins to swell. “Fuck babe, you don’t know what it’s doing to me to know that all those people get to see you, all dolled up in pretty lingerie, but at the end of the night I get you again.” 

Over the line, Hanzo snorted, grumbling low in his throat. His forelegs arched high for a few steps before they lowered into his usual gait. “ _ All yours, cowboy _ ,” he said quietly. 

Grunting, McCree came, his hips bucking. It dripped down his legs, soaking into his jeans and he let Hanzo hear his open-mouthed pants as he worked himself through it. “I’ll be waiting,” he promised and returned to the team channel. 

“ _ Gross, _ ” Brigitte informed them both, though she sounded amused. “ _ Are you two finished? _ ”

McCree chuckled, still too deep in his post-coital haze to be too embarrassed. Yet. “Well,  _ I _ am.” 

“ _ Gross _ ,” Brigitte said again with a quiet chuckle. “ _ Now stop distracting him _ — _ we’re approaching the club now. _ ”

* * *

Hanzo was tossing his head when they returned, walking in a high step that was nearly a prance. “Yeah, yeah,” McCree heard Brigitte tell him as they entered the safe house. “Just remember not to get too messy, now! And try not to be too loud!”

“I’m not sure how I feel about comments like that,” McCree laughed as Hanzo trotted over to him, his ears pricked forward. “Are we that obvious?” 

His boyfriend shrugged. “Shifters,” he said as if that were any explanation. But he leaned down and scooped McCree up, urging McCree’s legs around his waist. “I need you.” 

Who was he to protest? 

Hanzo tugged him to bed, rolling on his back and flipped McCree, pulling him so that he lay awkwardly arched, with his back to Hanzo’s chest. “I need you,” Hanzo hissed into McCree’s ear, one of his hands reaching down to cup McCree through his pants. “I need this.” 

“Babe,” McCree said. 

Hanzo’s front hooves arched around, moving as if they wanted to pull McCree’s legs open wider but didn’t dare. McCree obeyed nonetheless, letting them fall open so that they hung on either side of Hanzo’s big shoulders on his lower half. Grumbling happily, Hanzo mouthed at the side of McCree’s neck. 

“Babe,” McCree protested halfheartedly. “You’re gonna get messy.” 

“Not wearing these again at the club,” Hanzo grumbled, nearly forgetting his English in his eagerness. He was wickering low in his throat, a sign that McCree had learned meant that he was particularly amorous or just very happy. “Wearing something else.” 

McCree batted Hanzo’s clumsy hands away and opened his pants, whining when Hanzo’s hands returned, easing him out of his pants and into the cooler air of their room. “Hanzo,” he breathed. 

Making low noises in the back of his throat, Hanzo gently stroked him with one hand while the other cupped his balls, rolling them around in his fingertips. He was breathing hard, his hooves wiggling as he tried to keep his balance. 

Letting his head fall back, McCree sighed, bucking his hips into Hanzo’s hands. “Close, babe,” he breathed. “Fuck, it was driving me crazy seeing you out there, knowing that you’re all dolled up for other people to see.” 

Hanzo nuzzled at McCree’s cheek, mouthing distractedly at his cheek and ear. He licked at McCree’s lobe, making low little grumbling noises. 

“Fuck, babe,” McCree whined. He chanced a glance down and saw the lace over Hanzo’s forelegs, a dark matte over his glossy blue-black fur, and let his head fall back. With a groan he came and Hanzo eased him through it, making low wickering noises and McCree writhed and bucked on top of him. 

He let himself fall back, relaxing into Hanzo’s upper torso. Hanzo nuzzled at his ears, at his cheek and temple. He made low noises deep in his throat and McCree rolled off of him, much to his clear annoyance. 

“Stay there, babe,” McCree said roughly, feeling the sticky lines of his own come dripping down his chest. He knelt behind Hanzo’s hindquarters, let him see—and McCree could see just when he did, watched his eyes widen and his nostrils flare when he lifted his head and neck to look down at McCree. 

He ran his hands down the inside of Hanzo’s hind legs, his calloused fingers catching on the fine lace. They wiggled in the air as Hanzo tried to turn and he caught them, holding them in place. Hanzo huffed, his ears twisting but he relaxed as McCree wanted him to. 

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” he asked, letting one of his hands fall to the dark swell of Hanzo’s balls, cupping and rolling them in his hands. His fingers brushed against his sheath and they both groaned in unison. “Did you get all bothered there, sweet? Seeing all those people, knowing that they were staring at you?” 

Hanzo let his head fall back, his body bucking and undulating. McCree pressed at the base of his cock, put pressure against it in a long, slow stroke along the entire length. Just because he could he traced his fingers against the bright pink speckles against his dark skin. 

“Yeah,” McCree said before Hanzo complained. “I gotcha, pumpkin, I hear ya.” He palmed Hanzo’s cock, using both hands to rub along the entire length. “Come one, sweet. I know you’re excited, I know you’re all worked up. Come on, let loose.” 

Hanzo’s legs kicked as he came and McCree used both hands to work him through it, stroking him roughly until Hanzo’s cock began to soften and retreat back into its sheath. 

“Fuck,” McCree breathed, moving around Hanzo’s side to kiss him gently. “Babe.” 

Drowsily, Hanzo smiled up at him and drew him down for a lazy kiss. With a wordless grumble Hanzo yanked him closer, rolling on his side with McCree in his arms. 

“We need to clean up,” McCree protested halfheartedly. They were both covered in their own spend and Hanzo was still wearing his pretty lingerie. Hanzo nuzzled his neck and chin and tugged him closer. “A small nap won’t hurt,” McCree agreed. “And then we need to clean up.” Hanzo grumbled drowsily in agreement. 

Smiling, McCree pressed one last kiss to Hanzo’s nose and closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing these pieces. 
> 
> Thanks as always to [Kink](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for putting up with my whining, for all of her lovely inspiration (even if I sometimes took detours to write "spicy little drabbles"), and especially for such lovely things as [Sagittarius](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1070887673852760065) and all of its assorted doodles. 
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	2. Orgasm denial, shibari, body worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts** : Orgasm denial, ~~sex pollen~~ , shibari, ~~hate sex~~ , body worship

It was torture to watch Hanzo go out and interact with the customers at the fetish bar.

Excruciating.

McCree got to watch strangers, perfect strangers, go up and touch Hanzo’s sides and flanks like they owned him. Though he trusted Hanzo and knew that such flirtations are a part of his cover story, he still gritted his teeth when he saw Hanzo lean in to each touch, twist to look over his shoulder flirtatiously at the grabby customer, lift his tail teasingly to show off his pretty ass.

He looked _gorgeous_ in his chest harness, the red seeming extra vibrant against his dark coat, with red silk thread braided into his tail, done by hand that morning by McCree himself. Today wasn’t a day for him to wear lingerie but the night before McCree had spent _hours_ teaching Brigitte how to do the complicated diamond ties that looped over his withers and wrapped like garters over his legs to his knees and hocks.

Unable to help himself, McCree sighed wistfully. This time he double-checked that he was opening a private line before he spoke. “I can’t begin to tell you how jealous I am, babe,” he said, aware that Hanzo couldn’t answer. “I ain’t afraid of you walkin’ off on me but damn do I want this vision to be for my eyes only.”

The only sign that Hanzo heard him was the little rise in his tail, clearly visible in the security feeds that McCree was keeping an eye on.

“Fuck, babe, I wish I could’a been the one to tie you up all pretty,” McCree murmured, dragging his eyes away from Hanzo to check the other monitors.

He found Brigitte fiddling with Hanzo’s gear and two patrons getting a little too frisky for the club’s rules in the dark alcove near the bathrooms; there was a demonstration of wax play with a lycanthrope and McCree winced because _wax_ and _fur_ weren’t a good pairing.

Perhaps that was the point of the demonstration though: working around it and doing something safe. Whatever the kinds of demonstrations were held in a fetish club like this.

“You always look so good in red,” McCree mused, checking the remaining cameras and finding nothing of interest. A bartender stole a handful of notes from the tip jar; another took a shot of water with cheering clients as the bouncers wove through the crowd toward them. “But that blue silk looked so wonderful on you. Maybe I should get some blue rope, match that tattoo of yours.”

He found Hanzo again. There was only one other centaur there, a blue roan female that was pretty enough but she didn’t have Hanzo’s innate grace. She was more of a pony, her legs shorter and sturdier than Hanzo’s and she wore a simple chest harness in bright pink without the extra adornments that Hanzo did.

“Maybe I’ll hobble you, too,” McCree mused, watching Hanzo’s tail flick, his hindquarters twitch as he picked his way through the crowd, delivering drinks to his section. “Maybe I’ll see about doing a nice mermaid tie on your forelegs. It’ll be a shame ‘cause I love watching your legs wiggle while I fuck you, but there are other things we can do. Other fun we can have.” He licked his lips, letting his hand drift down toward his groin, cupping the bulge there in his hand.

Swallowing hard—now was not the time for such distractions—McCree looked at the other monitors again. The two patrons getting frisky were being escorted out by security; Brigitte dipped behind the bar to get a drink before she had to assist with the stage crew; the bartenders poured drinks or cleaned the bartop; the female centaur stood still, her legs splayed and her tail lifted as a couple ran their hands appreciatively over her hindquarters.

“This is torture,” McCree groaned, digging the heel of his palm meanly into the bulge in his pants. “I’ll be real mean to you the next time, though—just the kind of mean you like. Play with those pretty balls of yours. Maybe we’ll test out the crop—I know you like the feel of it. Get you all worked up, all nice and leaking, and then let you cool down. Wanna see how mad you get.”

The comm chirped and McCree switched to the team channel. “ _Hanzo, do you have an update?_ ”

“Piss poor timing,” McCree grumbled. “Time difference, Winston; he cannot answer.”

He could almost see the confused frown. “ _This is the evening, correct? Shouldn’t he have finished work?_ ”

McCree snorted. “His day’s just started—he’s maybe two hours in.”

“ _Oh. Have you witnessed anything of interest?_ ”

He was tempted to continue his train of discussion. Yes, he did find something of interest, and it was Hanzo in his nylon finery. Instead he decided to be good and said, “Nothin’ yet, boss. There’s an interesting demo of wax play with a lycanthrope, though. Almost sad I’m missing it.”

Winston coughed awkwardly. “ _Oh. Well, perhaps another time. Please remain focused._ ”

“Roger,” McCree chuckled and looked at the monitors again. If his eyes lingered a little longer than strictly necessary on Hanzo’s hindquarters, nobody had to know.

“ _Is there any update?_ ” Winston asked.

McCree chuckled. “Winston, it’s like you’d never been on a recon mission before.”

“ _I haven’t_ ,” he pointed out dryly.

“It’ll take some time,” McCree told him gently. “Recon missions go slow. Did you not read the notes we sent you last night?”

An awkward silence. The sound of Winston shifting. McCree watched the female centaur speak with the couple stroking along her flanks and then turn to lead them toward the private rooms; a group of people, friends or just very drunk by their familiarity with each other, take shots together. “ _Oh. I had not seen that_.”

It seemed ridiculous that Winston did not know this, not when they were already on their second day of recon, but McCree knew that he had Winston was under a lot of stress. There was another high-stakes mission going on at the same time and though he did well as base commander, he was still trying to get used to all of the moving pieces.

“Each one of us writes up a report in cipher,” McCree explained patiently, watching the female centaur, her tail lifted high, looking coquettishly over her upper shoulder at the two humans following her, disappeared into the private area where the cameras didn’t cover. He made a quick note to have Brigitte or Hanzo place another bug there, and a camera at least in the hallway to see who comes and goes. It would be discussed during their next downtime and pre-shift briefing. “That is then encrypted and sent over. So you have three different perspectives.”

McCree didn’t mention that he and Hanzo hadn’t written their reports from the first night until the next morning, but Winston didn’t need to know that.

“ _My apologies,_ ” Winston said tiredly. “ _It’s been...hectic here._ ”

“It’s okay, big guy,” McCree assured him. “Now I gotta say, for being under limited communication, we’re being awful chatty right now.”

Winston sighed. “ _You’re right. I’ll read over this report and send back a confirmation as well as any questions I have._ ”

The lycanthrope on the stage, covered in streaks of color from the wax, was being pet by her dom as the stage lights lowered to give them a brief moment of privacy. Her tail was wagging and her tongue lolled out as she panted happily.

McCree looked away, biting back the sharp surge of _want_ —not for sex, not for a lycanthrope, but for that intimacy with Hanzo again, without having to hold back in favor of keeping his scent away from Hanzo. He wanted nothing more than to mark him up, to have his mark and scent all over his boyfriend.

“ _I found something,_ ” Brigitte said quietly and McCree jumped.

“Be careful,” McCree immediately told her and Brigitte fell silent.

“ _What did she find?_ ” Winston wanted to know.

Even knowing that he couldn’t see him, McCree shook his head. “Not safe to talk,” he said briskly. “We’ll send you our full write-up tomorrow morning.”

Grumbling, Winston signed off.

McCree looked through the feeds again. He found Hanzo speaking to the couple on the stage—hilariously, he was tall enough that even with them on the raised platform they were still looking up at him—and found Brigitte speaking to a few of the stage technicians as they shared a smoke.

He’d probably catch hell for letting Brigitte smoke but that was fine—she was her own adult, after all and if she needed to drink and smoke to keep her cover, that was her business.

A patron groped a bartender but his partner, a spitfire of a woman, scolded the group of giggling women until security could come and get them. Hanzo and Brigitte had told him—not that McCree didn’t already know himself, not that he hadn’t already read the club rules—that the club was very strict with its rules on sexual harassment.

He made a few other notes of interest: colorful drinks, a few other incidents of patrons getting handsy with each other or the staff. On one hand, it would almost be expected with a fetish club; on the other, despite the stereotypes, there are strict rules in place and ways to enforce those rules.

McCree made a note—this was unusual in a club like this—and resolved to speak to Brigitte and Hanzo about it later.

* * *

 The night passed slowly as McCree, trapped in his own personal hell, watched others touch and grope his boyfriend. Soon it was closing and he got to eagerly watch Hanzo and Brigitte clean up, don their coats and blankets, and make their way back to the safehouse. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” he could hear Brigitte saying outside the door to their room. “Goodnight, Hanzo.”

Hanzo laughs, wishes her goodnight, and enters the room that he shares with McCree.

Not caring that his tail’s out, wagging happily, he goes to meet Hanzo at the door. Hanzo bends obligingly to kiss McCree, making low, happy whickering noises. McCree transforms, ignoring the ripping of his clothes in favor of being able to wrap his arms around Hanzo’s upper waist and nose at Hanzo’s cheek.

“Yes, dearest,” Hanzo murmured, his hands coming up to wrap around McCree in turn, his fingers burying in McCree’s fur. “I have missed you too. Back up so I can enter our room as well—then I’ll show you just how happy I am to see you again.”

McCree’s ears flipped up, perking forward almost painfully. He backed up quickly as Hanzo chuckled, stepping into their hotel room, closing and locking the door, and turning back around to approach McCree.

“Undress yourself,” Hanzo ordered and McCree hastened to obey, whimpering in his eagerness.

His clothes were in tatters anyway so it was only a matter of opening his belt buckle (apparently his waist size didn’t change enough to break it, which was nice because he _liked_ that belt) and shucking the rest of his tattered clothes.

Hanzo tossed his head, his hair streaming behind him, tangled from his day of having it long and down. He shifted on his hooves, impatient as McCree threw off the last of his tattered clothes. McCree’s tail was wagging with gusto now, thumping against the bed. “Now,” Hanzo said, his tails swishing. “Undress _me_.”

Whining, his dick beginning to peek out from his dark sheath, McCree kneels in front of Hanzo’s forelegs. At his gentle urging, the gentle tugs on his pastern, Hanzo rested his hoof against McCree’s thigh (careful not to rest any of his weight on that leg), allowing him to reach the wrappings there.

He had been tempted to ask Brigitte to keep the ropes around his legs on but by the end of the evening even his own horniness couldn’t win over his discomfort. So Brigitte had untied the decorative wrappings from his legs at the end of their shift and had put Hanzo’s usual wraps on his legs.

McCree started here, opening the magnetic clasps one by one, pressing gentle kisses to Hanzo’s knee and forearm, running his hands up and down Hanzo’s leg and very gently setting the leg wrapping and then his hoof aside. He does the same with the other three of Hanzo’s hooves: easing them to rest lightly on his thigh, opening the magnetic snaps holding them shut, running his hands up and down his legs, pressing gentle kiss to Hanzo’s coat before setting his leg back on the ground.

He went to the blanket next, opening the buckles and snaps holding it shut, and gently easing it off of Hanzo’s back. It is folded neatly and set aside and McCree returns to Hanzo’s side, taking his hand and gently, reverently kissing it.

“Jesse,” Hanzo breathes.

McCree hums, his tail still wagging as he pressed another kiss to Hanzo’s wrist, then the inside of his elbow. He mouthed at Hanzo’s shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his collarbone and then his neck, nosing happily at the curve of his jaw. “I missed you, darlin’.”

Smiling, Hanzo tilts his head, gives McCree more room to nudge his cold nose up toward his ear. “I missed you too, dearest.” He reached down, hand digging sublimely into McCree’s fur. His hand trailed lower, along his belly, leaning down to reach where his cock was peeking out from his sheath.

Ears twitching, McCree whined. “Wait, darlin’,” he breathed.

Hanzo’s ears pinned but he wasn’t particularly angry. “I have waited all day,” he said grumpily but after one more touch, just the right kind of mean that got Mccree’s cock slipping further out of its sheath, Hanzo subsided.

“Just let me love on ya a bit more,” McCree murmured, nuzzling against Hanzo’s throat. He wanted to lap at the skin there, lick off the scent of sweat and booze, wanted to mark his place there once more.

“Not too much longer,” Hanzo warned, stamping a foot impatiently but there was an indulgent smile on his lips. “Or I may fall asleep. Do not bore me, cowboy.”

Whining, McCree got to work with one last nudge against Hanzo’s ear that had it twitching. Hanzo snorted and McCree ran his clawed hands over the robe covering most of Hanzo’s torso. He had tied it loosely, perhaps even untied it before opening the door to their room, allowing only the tiniest glimpses of his tattoos.

Now McCree tugged the sash open, revealing the rest of his torso. McCree pressed kisses, reshaping his muzzle to allow it, lapping at one of Hanzo’s pierced nipples. It had been pierced special for this mission, and Hanzo hadn’t heard the end of it from Angie about misusing sonic amplifiers and biotics to squeeze a year or more’s worth of healing into a few hours.

He hoped that Hanzo chose to keep them and made a mental note to...gently ease Hanzo into the idea. Though from the way Hanzo whined and shifted his weight on his hooves, it wasn’t a particularly difficult decision.

“Why don’t you lie down, doll?” McCree asked. “Let me take care of you?”

To his surprise—Hanzo typically had no issue with this request—Hanzo tossed his head, stamping his hoof impatiently. “No,” he decided. “You’ve had your fun. Get on the bed.”

It was rare that Hanzo was in such a mood and McCree risked getting stepped on to lean in for another kiss. Hanzo tolerated it and tolerated the hands that tangled in his mane and in his coat along his withers before McCree obeyed.

The bed was large and low to the ground—as befitted a centaur bed—and easily fit both him and Hanzo in it. Hanzo approached, stepping slowly as he looked down his nose at McCree.

It made McCree want to roll over and bare his belly in submission so he did, whining.

Hanzo smiled and leaned down, bending his forelegs—and leaving his hindquarters in the air—to press a kiss to McCree’s belly. “Did you get lube today?”

“Yes,” McCree croaked, licking his lips. “While you were sleeping this morning.”

Humming, Hanzo shifted his weight on his hindquarters and stood up again, carefully getting on the bed and curling his legs. Lifting McCree, he moved him as he pleased, arranging him up near the headboard with McCree’s splayed legs framing his shoulders, one of them tossed carelessly over Hanzo’s curled legs.

“Where?”

McCree whined. “I can’t...we can’t, darlin’.”

Ears pinning Hanzo snorted and tossed his head. “Where is it?”

“In the drawer, there.” He watched as Hanzo fetched the lube—a large bottle as Hanzo had requested. It drove him crazy to know that Hanzo may have to go to the club with a plug—that sight was for his eyes and his alone—but they all had to make sacrifices.

Hanzo leaned over, tugging open the drawer and removing the lube which he squirted on his fingers. The lube was put away and Hanzo’s hands returned to McCree—one around his cock, nearly fully emerged from its sheath, and the other to press at McCree’s hole.

Whining, McCree tossed his head back and bucked his hips. They so rarely did this—McCree was still not used to the feeling, preferred hearing the pretty little noises that he could fuck out of Hanzo—but now it felt like heaven.

And it wouldn’t get his scent all over Hanzo.

The first finger slid in smoothly and McCree would be lying if he said it was entirely comfortable. But it didn’t _hurt_ and he gasped as it twisted and moved inside of him. His claws flexed, mouth open and panting as it slowly began trusting, twisting and moving inside. The finger curled and hit _that spot_ and McCree’s legs jerked as if he had been electrocuted.

“I bet you liked watching me move around like that,” Hanzo breathed. “I bet you wished that you were there with me to take me into those back rooms.”

McCree whined when the hand around his dick squeezed. He bucked his hips up into it and Hanzo let him, let him fuck his hand while he spoke.

“Copper had a few very friendly clients tonight,” Hanzo continued and McCree was confused for a moment—could you blame him?—until he remembered that Copper was the female centaur’s name. “She took them to the back and let them show her how well they could _ride_ . All _I_ could think of was having you take me there and leave me messy. My hole fucked open and dripping.”

The image was too tempting and McCree squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his arousal go to dizzying levels. He could feel his knot beginning to swell already. One finger in him became two and he _yipped_ in surprise. He groaned, embarrassingly loud, when the fingers crooked in him, rubbing meanly against his prostate.

“They would tell me to leave, of course,” Hanzo continued conversationally, as if he weren’t fucking McCree into a drooling mess. “I can’t be smelling like sex, after all. It would give other patrons the wrong idea—and I would no longer be someone’s fantasy of a wild, hot-blooded stallion for them to tame.”

McCree whined as Hanzo’s hand wrapped tightly around his blooming knot, slid off to the tip of his tapered cock, and released him completely. “Hanzo!”

He yowled again, sounding like a cat, when Hanzo’s fingers jabbed at his prostate. “I have neglected your training,” Hanzo murmured. “I had been meaning to do this to you for a while, but you fuck me so nicely that I forget. But perhaps this mission would be a good time to try it.”

“Try...try what?” McCree panted.

Hanzo whickered. “Hold your legs open for me.”

Without thinking McCree obeyed, grabbing the back of his knees and lifting. He could feel lube dripping out of his hole into the fur of his tail but at the moment he couldn’t think of anything more than the alien feeling of Hanzo’s fingers in him and the sparks of pleasure racing up and down his spine as he rubbed against his prostate.

“Good boy,” Hanzo teased though his voice was low with arousal. He palmed McCree’s balls, squeezing them meanly before lifting them out of the way with more gentility—so that Hanzo could see where he was fucking him, McCree realized dizzily. So he could see where his fingers were stretching McCree’s ass.

He groaned when Hanzo let his fingers slip out— _three_ returned and slid slowly into him. The stretch burned, it burned better than McCree had expected it to and he gasped, back arching almost painfully.

“You look beautiful like this,” Hanzo breathed. “But I am tired—I had a long shift. Come for me, darling.”

McCree whined and let go one of his legs to reach for his cock but Hanzo slapped his hand away. “Babe!” McCree groaned. “Babe, please.”

“Like this,” Hanzo breathed. “Like this or not at all.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, McCree whined. “Babe, I can’t.”

“You can,” Hanzo murmured. “You can, my good boy.” he adjusted his grip, his other hand pressing down on McCree’s hips to hold him still, rolling his other shoulder to adjust himself to thrust harder, faster, into McCree. “You will. Or you will not come tonight.”

Hanzo’s ears were pricked forward, his head high and lofty—a look that said _you will obey_.

Swallowing a sob, McCree let his head fall back. He could feel his knot there, ready to lock. He was right at that precipice, so close to tumbling over. It felt like just a breath would knock him over the edge; he shivered, cold and tingling from head to toe but at the same time he felt as if he would burn up, would ignite into a ball of fire.

“Close,” he gasped as Hanzo spread his fingers, stretching him wide. “Close!” he whined, digging his claws deep enough into his own legs to sting. “Close, I’m so close!”

Then Hanzo stopped. He pulled away, slid his fingers out of McCree. The jaw-cracking yawn he gave was only partially for show. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said, grunting as he got to his feet. He stretched each hoof and as McCree watched, he could see Hanzo’s cock bobbing beneath his belly, hard and eager. “I’m tired. You will not touch yourself, will you?”

That was his out, McCree knew. Hanzo’s pose was relaxed despite his erection and waited patiently for McCree’s answer.

“Yessir,” he mumbled, letting his head fall back submissively.

Hanzo grunted, tossed his head, and stepped into the attached bathroom to wash his hands. He returned with a towel which he used to clean up McCree. Then he sighed, climbing in bed with McCree and tugging him close to cuddle.

“Be good,” he warned when McCree bucked his hips—just once—against Hanzo’s belly where it transitioned from flesh to horsehide.

McCree whined. “I will, just…”

Leaning down, Hanzo sleepily kissed McCree. “I know,” he murmured indulgently. “My good boy. I love you.”

Despite the arousal still thundering in his veins and pounding in his ears, McCree’s tail wagged and he smiled. He licked Hanzo’s chin in a canine kiss just to hear Hanzo snort. “I love you too.” This time he leaned in for a human kiss and Hanzo smiled.

“Sleep,” he complained. “We have to write up our report tomorrow.”

Grumbling, McCree nudged his nose against Hanzo’s chin and neck. He relaxed back into his human form, making Hanzo grumble, but when Hanzo said nothing more, McCree sighed.

Hanzo was asleep in moments, obviously exhausted by his day, but McCree laid awake a while longer, listening to Hanzo sleep. He wished that was the only reason he was awake though.

He sighed. The more he thought about how horny he was, the longer it would take for him to fall asleep. Resigning himself for an uncomfortable night, McCree wiggled closer to Hanzo again, and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone that's left comments or kudos. I'm so happy to see that people are enjoying it!
> 
> Thanks as always to [Kink](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for a whole lot of reasons. :D 
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	3. Somnophilia/sleepy sex & creampie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts** : ~~A/B/O~~ , Somnophilia/sleepy sex, creampie, ~~spanking~~ , ~~strip tease~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a mentally draining day today so I thought I'd go ahead and post this a bit early. It's midnight somewhere, right?

Hanzo sighed, exhausted down to his bones.

It has been a week and a half into their mission and they had little to show for it. He knew what it was like to be on recon missions like this—it was called “hurry up and wait” for a reason—but at the same time, it frustrated him. His blood was up, he wanted to _run_ , he wanted to _move_.

It was insult to injury that he couldn’t run _and_ that he was so exhausted.

“You need to rest,” Brigitte told him, concerned. “Everyone takes breaks. Even Copper. They won’t begrudge you that.”

Hanzo snorted, ears pinning halfheartedly. But he was drooping now that he had entered their complex, his posture slumping forward into a more natural position.

“Even the rookies,” Brigitte added before he could say anything. “And _especially_ you. They want to keep you, remember? They have a mare, they want a stallion too.”

He couldn’t even find it in him to even put forward a token argument. She was right but it rubbed him the wrong way to take a break now. It grated on his nerves to request a break, not when lives were at stake, not when he could be _doing_ something.

Hurry up and wait was a load of bullshit.

But he _was_ exhausted. Even his shoes—the most lightweight pair he owned—felt as if they were made of lead, felt as if his pasterns were weighted down. He sighed and Brigitte leaned close to press a hand to his shoulder, giving it a little rub as she stepped away.

“You know I’m right,” she informed him, not unkindly. “I will call in to Jug.” She waited patiently for him to respond and he heaved a heavy sigh from both sets of lungs.

“Just one day,” he said reluctantly, his ears pinning, just as McCree opened the door to their room with a toothy grin. No doubt he’d heard. “And even then I may decide to join later.”

Brigitte patted his shoulder again, touches that he was learning to like and almost look forward to. McCree was forever doing the same thing but it’s much different with someone that he wasn’t dating. And he was _close_ to her, he as close with a lot of the shifters on base—Brigitte and Ana both claimed that his back as he walked were some of the best places to nap—so he sighed heavily and shuffled off toward McCree.

“You look like shit,” McCree said too cheerfully. He stepped close, wrapping his arms around Hanzo’s waist and pressing a kiss to his collar.

Hanzo snorted, patting absently at the back of McCree’s head. “I’m _exhausted_.”

“You look it. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Frustrated, Hanzo’s tail flicked but he didn’t have it in him to fight. He heard McCree call goodnight to Brigitte and heard her response. It was tempted to curl up in bed as he was, which may ruin his clothes and mean more work as he worked out the wrinkles.

He jumped, nearly wrenching a muscle in his back as his torso snapped up, when he felt hands on him. “Easy there,” McCree murmured. “It’s just me, sweet.”

“Sorry,” Hanzo murmured, letting his torso lean forward again.

McCree clicked his tongue as his hands drifted down Hanzo’s hindquarters, running soothing over his legs before working on the clasps of his leg wrappings. One by one they came off and McCree briskly rubbed his legs before moving on. “You look exhausted,” he murmured. “You been overworking yourself, hm?”

Hanzo didn’t dignify that with a response, relaxing further. At some point McCree must have pushed a chair in front of him and he braced his elbows on the back, letting his head fall to rest on them.

“I hope you let yourself take a break,” McCree continued and there was a brief clatter as he got Hanzo’s brushes. Despite his exhaustion, Hanzo found himself eager for it—he always felt better after a brushing, even the brief one that McCree would most likely give him. “I’ll brush you more tomorrow,” McCree added as Hanzo expected. “But I saw you get beer spilled on you. I bet you feel all tacky, huh?”

Now that McCree mentioned it, he _did_ feel gross and sticky. He had worked himself into a sweat from the heat of the club, the feeling made worse by all the drinks that had been spilled on him. A particularly drunk patron had “accidentally” spilled his entire pitcher of beer all over Hanzo’s hindquarters. Hanzo wasn’t sure what he had expected—perhaps something out of human pornography, where Hanzo might decide to undress because his hindquarters were wet?—but the patron clearly hadn’t expected to be kicked out.

“I’ll give you a bath tomorrow, too,” McCree told him, working on the fastenings of the blanket that Hanzo had been wearing between their safe house and the club. “Rinse all of that out of your coat.”

That sounded lovely.

McCree folded his blanket and set it aside, then returned with a damp towel to rub over the worst of the mess so that their bed would not smell like stale beer.

The chair he was leaning on moved and he opened his eyes to find that McCree had straddled it and leaned close to press a kiss to his forehead. “C’mon, sweet,” he murmured. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re asleep on your hooves.”

Hanzo huffed. He was comfortable here and with his head propped up, he could nap like this.

As if he heard his thoughts, McCree smiled and pressed a ticklish kiss to one of Hanzo’s ears, laughing when it flicked and slapped him in the face. A hand came up, scratching wonderfully at his scalp. “Come on,” McCree wheedled. “You can’t cuddle standing up, and you deserve some nice sleep.”

Snorting, Hanzo closed his eyes. A nap like this and then he would join McCree in bed—he didn’t want to move. Although…

Well, McCree was at least correct that they couldn’t really cuddle when Hanzo slept standing up. Not that Hanzo had slept particularly well while standing anyway.

McCree kissed his other ear, the whiskers of his beard and perhaps even his snout tickling it, making it twitch furiously. Snorting, Hanzo lifted his head away from the irritation and scowled sleepily down at McCree, his ears twisting back.

Knowing that McCree had won, Hanzo shuffled to the bed and carefully rolled on with an exhausted sigh. He could feel McCree’s hands on his hooves, gently taking off his shoes and setting them aside. There was a rustle as the comforter, bunched up at the foot of the bed, was lifted over his hindquarters where it rested; a moment later, as McCree climbed into bed next to Hanzo, it lifted and covered him up to his withers.

The furnace that was McCree, halfway transformed into his wolf form, curled up at his back to warm his bare torso. In the night Hanzo would roll and wrap as many of his limbs around McCree as he could, an almost literal “cuddle octopus” as McCree liked to call him, but the sound of breathing and the sense of safety from McCree’s scent would send him into a deep sleep faster than anything but alcohol or medication.

Sighing, Hanzo closed his eyes.

* * *

When he woke up, he found that the blackout curtains had been drawn so he didn’t quite know what time it was. His internal clock insisted that it was _too late_ and he had slept well past dawn, but he wasn’t sure.

There were hands on his hindquarters, kneading them not unlike a pleased cat. He sighed happily, relaxing into the mattress as McCree scratched at _that spot_ , stretching his hind legs back, his tail lifting of its own accord.

“Shh,” McCree murmured.”Relax, babe. Let me love on you a bit.”

Hanzo hummed. Relax? He supposed he could do that.

With gentle hands McCree gathered up Hanzo’s tail, tucking it aside to reveal more of his hindquarters. “Think you can roll on your back, sweet?” McCree asked, his thumbs digging dangerously close to Hanzo’s hole.

Grunting, Hanzo rolled with McCree’s assistance, catching his hind legs and helping to steady him. Then Hanzo sighed, his legs relaxing, and McCree ran his hands along the insides of his hind legs.

“Easy,” McCree murmured. “Let me love on you.” Hanzo whickered, McCree’s soft touches, his warm voice, the dark room, and his own exhaustion working him back toward sleep.

* * *

_Hanzo dreamed._

_McCree was on his back, a thin blanket serving as the only covering between Hanzo and McCree. He was slouched, something strange for McCree_ _—every other time that he’d ridden Hanzo, he had impeccable posture._

_Now he rode with his hands behind him on Hanzo’s back, lounging as Hanzo walked along the familiar terraces and paths of Shimada Castle._

_There was nobody else there_ — _Hanzo knew this with the startling clarity of a dream_ — _and McCree was naked on his back. “Someone might see you,” his dream self complained._

_“Naw,” dream-McCree said. “Ain’t nobody here. Nobody here to see me do this.”_

_Hanzo wasn’t sure what he did_ — _perhaps the scene cut as dreams sometimes did. Now he was standing in front of the altar but it was whole; there was no cut, no bloodstain. Now McCree rested his weight on his hindquarters or perhaps was standing behind him and was sliding his cock into Hanzo, feeding it slowly._

_Groaning, Hanzo lifted his tail away even as he said, “What if someone sees?”_

_“No one can see,” McCree told him. “Just relax. Let me love on you.”_

_Hanzo let his legs kick open, let his hindquarters dip slightly as he relaxed into the shape slowly sliding into him. Was it strange that even in his dream he recognized that this was not McCree fucking him? Perhaps it was something else, perhaps it was his dreaming brain trying and failing to recreate McCree’s dick, but Hanzo_ knew.

Hanzo woke up.

He was on his back, one of McCree’s hands holding him steady. McCree grinned. “Hey, sweetness,” he murmured. His other arm was moving in time with the...whatever it was in him.

Lifting his chest, he tried to look down, to see what McCree was doing. “Easy there,” McCree told him with a laugh, the hand on Hanzo’s leg coming in to palm at Hanzo’s heavy balls. “I gotcha.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo gasped. “What…?”

McCree groaned, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Hanzo’s sheath. “You don’t know how crazy it makes me,” he growled, hints of the wolf in his voice. “To know that everyone is watching you. To know that I can’t mark you and I gotta keep my scent off’a you.” He _did_ something and the cock in Hanzo—a dildo, he realized now—jerked deeper in him, deep enough that Hanzo could feel McCree’s fingers around the base of it, rubbing against his stretched rim.

“I been good too,” McCree continued, twisting the dildo in Hanzo so that he shuddered and struggled not to kick his legs out in surprised pleasure. “I ain’t came without your fingers in me, I ain’t came since…” he growled in frustration, ears rising to the top of his head before pinning backwards. “Meanwhile I get to see you walkin’ around, gettin’ ideas, teasin’ me with your ropes and lace.”

Hanzo whickered, forgetting how to speak for a moment while McCree moved his hand, fucking the dildo into Hanzo with aching slowness while the one on his balls moved up to grip Hanzo’s straining cock. It was hard to tell for sure anything more about it other than that it was large enough for Hanzo to feel the ache of it. How long had McCree prepared him while he slept? Gently fingered him open to take this monster cock?

It didn’t matter in the end because even as frustrated as McCree was, Hanzo was certain that he felt worse. His world may not have been built up around scents as much as McCree’s was, but he _liked_ that bit of lingering smell of McCree on him. On bad days it bit at his pride in ways that didn’t and would never make sense to him, but on good days it only served to make him relax. He had a boyfriend, as awkward as the phrase was when applied to him, and he had a Herd.

“Jesse,” he whispered, finding his voice and letting his head fall back. It came out barely sounding like human speech, but he knew that McCree understood him. “Jesse!”

Above him, a growl that should have kicked his fight-or-flight instincts into overdrive. But somewhere deep down, even as far as his animal brain, he knew who this was and only relaxed deeper, letting his hind legs fall open as much as possible.

“You beautiful thing,” McCree growled, voice nearly incoherent as he began to shift in his eagerness. “Let me hear you.”

Hanzo imagined that he could feel McCree rubbing his cock against his tail, but most likely McCree had angled his hips too far away. As tempting as it was, it wasn’t worth the risk and he knew this.

Doesn’t mean they couldn’t _want_ though.

He whickered, groaning low in his chest as McCree slowly began to thrust the toy in him faster. “You should have heard the noises you made,” McGree said, his voice thunderous, his eyes dark with need. “You _like_ me in you. You’re so needy like this when you’re so sleepy.”

McCree ran his hand over Hanzo’s cock, his grip teasingly light. Hanzo made a noise like a frustrated squeal, his nostrils flaring. “I want to see you do it,” he grumbled, his eyes bright and ears pricked forward. The toy moved faster in Hanzo, McCree grunting with each rough thrust. “Let me see you come like this.” He leaned down, mouthing at the shaft of Hanzo’s cock.

He _yelled_ , legs kicking. It was one thing to be fucked—McCree did seem to have a wonderful obsession with his ass—but another thing to feel his mouth on him as well. McCree mouthed at where his shaft disappeared into his sheath, lapped at his balls all the while his other hand rocked the dildo into Hanzo, faster and faster.

_It’s not you_ , Hanzo wanted to say, but was distracted by the way that McCree pressed open-mouthed kisses to the wet shaft of his cock. _I want_ you, _not some toy_.

But even his stubbornness couldn’t win out over McCree at his most determined. After a brief pause where it felt like McCree was adjusting his grip on the dildo, he began to fuck into Hanzo more insistently. He toyed with Hanzo’s cock, licking and nosing at Hanzo’s sheath with his cold nose.

Then the dildo began to expand.

It began to expand almost like…

Hanzo’s entire body locked up, every muscle tensed as he was catapulted over the edge. He came all over himself, with McCree still lapping at the base of his cock, while he continued to fuck Hanzo on the expanding dildo. McCree fucked him to overstimulation, left the dildo knotted tightly in his hole.

Growling in a way that should have made Hanzo skittish but only drew a tired, needy whicker, McCree stalked to Hanzo’s head.

Reaching out, Hanzo urged him closer, tugged him so that he was straddling Hanzo’s shoulders. McCree snarled, the sound ending in a needy whine when Hanzo’s fingers dug deeper into his fur and his tapered cock bobbed delightfully close to Hanzo’s mouth.

It was dripping, shiny with precome and flushed a painful-looking red that made Hanzo’s softening cock twitch in sympathy. His knot was already half-swollen.

“You sure?” McCree asked, voice rough with need.

Hanzo tipped his head back, urged McCree down, and let him slowly feed his cock deeper and deeper. Like this he couldn’t take all of it—McCree was simply too large in this form—so he choked and slobbered around what he could.

It was sloppy, not Hanzo’s best work by far, but McCree was clearly too worked up to care. McCree snarled. “Fuck, babe. You don’t know what this does to me. Hearin’ you slurpin’ away on my cock knowing that you’re all plugged up.”

Opening his mouth, Hanzo yanked McCree closer, his lips bumping against McCree’s swelling knot. He choked wetly, his throat constriction, and above him McCree snarled. Hanzo reached up, groping blindly. He palmed at McCree’s balls, rolled them in his palm and felt them shifting, rising up. Felt for and found McCree’s knot which he wrapped his thumb and first few fingers around.

McCree _yowled_ , his bucking his hips and shoving more of his dick into Hanzo’s mouth, making sput and precome bubble out. “Fuck, babe, I’m close.”

Lifting his other hand, Hanzo found McCree’s tail and then the space beneath it. McCree’s howl surely woke Brigitte if she was sleeping, or at the very least alerted her to their... _activities_. But thoughts of that particular embarrassment—and the resulting teasing from her when they walked to their next shift—were put on hold as McCree came, hard.

He focused on swallowing as much as he could, gulping messily. His throat worked at McCree’s tapered cock, making him groan and whine with each pulse. He fucked a finger into McCree’s hole, too dry to be the most comfortable, but nudging meanly at his prostate; his other hand clenched tightly around McCree’s knot.

When McCree finally pulled away, limbs shaky, Hanzo coughed, wheezed, and licked his swollen lips. His face was a mess, covered in spit and come, his beard sticky with it.

McCree’s legs were shaky as he tried to get to his feet, or even his knees, and Hanzo felt a thrill of pride fill his chest. _He_ did that. Panting, McCree licked his muzzle as if his face was the one that was so messy. Drowsily, Hanzo ran the shaking fingers of one of his hands through the mess on his face and slipped them into his mouth.

“Let…” McCree whined, still trying to catch his breath. His voice was satisfyingly high and breathy. “Let me clean you up, sug’.”

It took a few tries for Hanzo to find his voice. He rolled over on his side, uncaring that it smeared the fluids on his belly and face over the sheets. He would have to be cleaned with that noxious soap that removed McCree’s scent from him and the sheets washed with more of the stuff, but Hanzo couldn’t find it in him to care.

“No,” Hanzo murmured. He felt delightfully full, his belly bloated in the best way. He was safe and warm and with McCree. The curtains were drawn, turning their room into a hazy sort of twilight, and Brigitte had called them out of work. “Come here.”

McCree snorted. “We’re a mess,” he protested, sounding amused and indulgent. He gently carded his fingers through Hanzo’s hair, careful of his ears, and Hanzo tipped his head back into the caress. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, sweetness.”

Eyes half closed, Hanzo hummed. “Yes,” he murmured. “I deserve a break, don’t I?” Chuckling, McCree went along toward his hindquarters and Hanzo flicked his tail. “Leave it,” he murmured.

“You don’t gotta do nothing,” McCree promised with a sleepy chuckle. “Let me take care o’ ya.”

“Then you will join me?” Hanzo asked suspiciously, already caught in the thrall of sleep and slowly sinking downward.

McCree pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s belly.

He wondered how much of whatever fake come McCree had pumped him with. He wondered how bloated his belly was, how swollen his rim.

“Promise.”

Humming, exhausted and content, Hanzo closed his eyes and let himself fall back asleep.

* * *

In the other room, Brigitte lifted one side of the noise-cancelling headphones that Lúcio had given her for the mission for this exact purpose. Hearing nothing (for the moment), she smiled.

She was sure that the safehouse’s walls were soundproof, but she doubted that it stood up to the screams and howls of McCree and Hanzo at their most amorous.

Although...perhaps it was time to mix up another batch of that scent-blocking soap that Angela had talked to her about. They were so much like horny teenagers, it was ridiculous.

She did have to hand it to them, though. They had lasted longer than anyone but herself had predicted. She lifted her headphones again and heard nothing. Perhaps they were done for the moment.

Taking them off, she stood, stretched, and got ready to do some chores around the safehouse. Just because they were off from their undercover work didn’t mean that _all_ work stopped, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you all are enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun with these prompts :)
> 
> Thanks as always to [Kink](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for being my sounding board ~~and for distracting me with so many spicy ideas~~. 
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	4. Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Massage, Overstimulation, Knotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts** : ~~Blowjobs~~ , exhibitionism/voyeurism, massage, overstimulation, knotting

Hanzo’s legs were trembling. 

He hid in one of the private rooms to speak. “I don’t know that I can do this,” Hanzo gasped into his comm. 

“ _ Sure you can, _ ” McCree told him, a thread of a growl in his voice. “ _ I’d love to see you, babe. I bet your tail’s up, hm? _ ” 

Unbidden, Hanzo’s tail lifted higher as his hind legs shifted wider. Not for the first time Hanzo wished that McCree was there. That he could feel his hands on his hindquarters, that it was  _ his _ cock in him, not the alien girth of their new toy. 

“Jess,” Hanzo whined, trying to be as quiet as possible. He was on his shift and though he was on break, he wasn’t  _ supposed _ to be back here. The last thing he wanted to do was make a mess, make anyone ask questions. 

The vibrator that McCree had shoved in beside the toy rattled, dialed higher and Hanzo gasped, his legs trembling. He folded his arms against the wall, braced himself there as he rode out the shocks. 

“ _ I think you can do it, _ ” McCree coached in his ear. “ _ You only got a little bit longer and then you can come back to me. _ ” 

That was what Hanzo wanted more than anything. To have McCree’s hands on him again. 

To have his scent hanging around. 

To be able to twitch his tail aside and have McCree mount up, to fuck him until he cried. 

“Jesse,” he whined, breaking into a strangled whinny when the toy’s vibrations shot upwards and then slowed to a stop. 

“ _ Break’s over, sweet, _ ” McCree said roughly. “ _ Go on, you’re almost done. _ ” 

Hanzo snorted, stamped his hoof, and shook his head at his own foolishness. McCree was right, of course, and they were on a mission. Never before had he wanted so badly to touch himself or to have McCree touch him. 

“ _ Take a deep breath, _ ” McCree said soothingly, so at odds with the lusty voice he had used previously. Hanzo’s flank twitched, tail swishing. He tossed his head and bent a foreleg. “ _ Deep breath, and then go back out there. Let everyone see how you’re mine. _ ” 

Swallowing hard, Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut. Taking a few deep breaths, Hanzo nodded to himself even though he knew that McCree couldn’t see him. “Okay,” he gasped, breathier than he would have liked. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

“ _ I love you _ ,” McCree murmured. 

Hanzo laughed breathlessly. “I love you too.” 

After taking another deep breath, Hanzo cleaned up the room and left. He could almost feel the prickling stare of the various patrons. It was his imagination. Perhaps the patrons knew that he was wearing a plug, but that wasn’t the point of it. This was a fetish club and humans in tail plugs were pretty common but…

There was just something about it. The thought that someone might see and know, somehow, that Hanzo was already claimed. 

At the bar, Copper joined him, her ears pricked forward. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly. “You’ve been out of sorts lately.” 

“Just tired,” Hanzo assured her. His flank twitched. 

Copper’s ears twitched and she gave him a knowing look. “I’m sure.” She grinned when Hanzo’s ears pinned. “Don’t worry, it’s not a huge thing. We  _ are _ allowed lives outside of our work.” 

Looking around, Hanzo made sure that nobody was nearby and tucked his head closer to Copper, who was much shorter than he was. Her bright green eyes stared up at him. “I do have a partner, yes.” 

“That explains a lot,” Copper said, clearly pouting. 

McCree clearly decided that this was the perfect time to turn the plug on; Hanzo nearly dropped his tray and Copper’s ears pricked forward in interest. She waited with him, moving to block him with her body while her ears flicked and twitched. 

“One day I’d like that,” Copper murmured so softly that Hanzo wasn’t sure he heard her at first. “Someone to love me like that.” 

Shaking his head, Hanzo left quickly. There were a lot of things that he could do, but he couldn’t make someone fall in love, not even for someone as lovable as Copper. 

* * *

“What’s wrong?” McCree asked later that night as he helped Hanzo undress. “Was it too much?” 

Hanzo blinked at him blankly. “Hm?”

McCree pressed a kiss to his navel, running a hand over Hanzo’s withers. “Was it too much for you? The plug?” 

Hanzo shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “I...just had a thought.” He tugged McCree close. “Come here.” 

“I  _ am _ here,” McCree protested with a smile as he let Hanzo lift him up. He wrapped his legs around Hanzo’s waist, caught his ankles against each other around Hanzo’s withers. “You got something in mind?” 

Humming in agreement, Hanzo eased him down on the short bed and kissed him. “Get the lube.”

“You need to let go of me first.” 

Hanzo snorted, shifted his weight on his front hooves, and then—with obvious reluctance—set him down. He was behaving strangely, he knew but he wasn’t sure that he could fake normalcy, even for McCree. Worse, he wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words and right now,  _ talking _ was the last thing on his mind. 

He jumped when McCree put a hand on where skin gave way to his short coat. “Are you okay?” McCree asked, his brow creased with worry. “You don’t seem well.” 

Hanzo’s ears pinned. “That’s not it,” he said a little impatiently. 

Stepping close, McCree pressed a kiss to his ribs and chest, letting his hands roam. They were soothing touches now, not designed to get Hanzo’s blood rushing, and he whickered in annoyance. 

Then he sighed, his ears lowering. He bent to press a kiss to McCree’s forehead and then his lips as he tipped his head back. “Something that happened at work,” he explained. “Not mission-related. Just...something that Copper said. It stuck with me.” 

“If it’s upsetting to you, we don’t have to do anything tonight,” McCree reminded him gently. 

As sweet as the gesture was, it only frustrated Hanzo. But if he learned anything from his relationship with McCree—and  _ especially _ from his time undercover—Hanzo knew that communication was important. 

“It’s not that,” Hanzo said carefully. “It’s not that I’m  _ upset _ , but…” 

McCree drew him toward the bed, putting the lube aside in favor of helping Hanzo to undress and curl up on the bed. 

Hanzo rolled on his back, a position that he had not particularly liked until McCree had come along, and settled his boyfriend on his hips so he could stare up at him. He pressed against McCree’s belly and chest, keeping him upright, and stared up at McCree. Catching one of Hanzo’s hands, McCree brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Cooper figured out that I had…”  _ a mate _ , he wanted to say but hesitated. Humans didn’t think in terms of mates and though McCree  _ was  _ a werewolf, he had spent all of his life around humans. “A partner,” Hanzo decided on. 

McCree frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.” 

“We’re allowed to have personal lives outside of our work,” Hanzo pointed out. His ears swiveled. “That’s not what...I’m just...I’m just lucky to have you. That’s what she made me realize.” 

As if unable to help it, McCree smiled softly and Hanzo felt his hearts fly up into his chest. “Aww, you big softie.” He leaned down and Hanzo let him, pressed a sweet kiss to Hanzo’s lips. “I love you.” 

Hanzo whickered, nudging his nose against McCree’s. “I love you too. That’s why I’ve been...odd. This mission is far more difficult than I had anticipated.” 

“Bet you ain’t worked a day in your life like this,” McCree teased, taking the sting away by pressing a kiss to Hanzo’s nose. 

“I’ve worked in kink clubs before, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo informed his boyfriend, letting his arms drape around his waist to grip roughly at McCree’s ass through his pants. “I simply find it...difficult to be so close to you now and not be able to have my way with you.” 

McCree chuckled. “I feel the same, sweetness,” he agreed. “It feels so weird not smelling myself on you.” 

Kneading at McCree’s ass with one hand, Hanzo drew McCree into a deep kiss with the other. “Let me...let me?”

Fortunately McCree seemed to somehow understand because despite his obvious reluctance he rolled away to undress. Hanzo’s eyes lingered on each bit of skin as it was revealed. He wished that he could touch himself, could take his own hardening cock in hand like McCree sometimes did and jerk himself off while McCree undressed. 

Alas, those were such things for pornography, props, and those centaurs that were very, very flexible. 

McCree returned quickly, kicking off his jeans and underwear without regard to where they landed and straddled Hanzo’s ribs again. He leaned over and grabbed the lube, wiggling the bottle at Hanzo with a smirk. “You had something in mind, didn’t you, sweet?” 

Whickering, Hanzo tugged him close again and kissed him. “You cannot fuck me, but I can fuck you,” he told McCree just to watch his eyes widen. “I want to see how many times you can come just from me playing with your ass.” 

“You got me worked up something fierce earlier today,” McCree told him with a wry smile. “I don’t think it’ll take very much.” 

Hanzo smirked, nudging McCree aside. He rolled to his side, got his hooves under him, and leaned over McCree. “We’ll see,” he said enigmatically. He slicked his fingers, ignoring the excess lube that slid down his arm in favor of watching McCree’s skin jump when it dripped on him. 

“Cold,” McCree said, whining when Hanzo capped the bottle and used both hands to rub the lube into his skin, gathering some up to play with McCree’s cock. He used both hands to stroke it from root to tip and then divided his attention between McCree’s dick and his balls. 

“Hold your legs open for me,” Hanzo ordered and whickered, pleased, when McCree hooked his hands behind his knees and tugged them back. McCree winked, lips curling into a smug smirk. 

Hanzo smiled back and let his fingers fall to rub at McCree’s hole. He blinked and then smirked at McCree. Two fingers slipped in with relative ease. “Did you get anything out of this?” he asked roughly, shifting his hind legs as his cock continued to harden, peeking out of his sheath. “Fucking yourself on your fingers? Was that what you were doing while you played with the toy in me?” 

Letting his head fall back, McCree groaned and gave Hanzo a lovely view of his throat as it bobbed. “It wasn’t as fun,” McCree managed to croak, his voice jumping as Hanzo’s fingers curled. “Did almost nothing.”

Looking down, Hanzo wiggled his fingers, watched McCree’s lube-slick rim stretch. Watched McCree’s foreskin as it pulled back from the flushed head of his cock. He let go of it, letting it fall against McCree’s heaving belly with a wet  _ smack _ , too heavy to support its own weight. 

He smiled when McCree whined and instead palmed at his balls, rolling them around in his hands, feeling the skin there twitch. “I like the idea of you so frustrated by this,” Hanzo admitted, slowly beginning to rock his fingers in McCree. “I like the idea of being the only one that can do this to you. 

“You been shirking,” McCree teased breathlessly. His voice went high, his back arching and body jolting when Hanzo’s questing fingers nudged against his prostate. “ _ Oh _ .”

“It’s been a while since I’ve touched you like this,” Hanzo agreed. His own hips rocked against the bedspread and he closed his eyes in quiet bliss at the teasing stimulation. “Regular training is ideal for these kinds of things.” he opened his eyes and removed his fingers. Three returned to McCree’s hole and they both groaned. “I’m awake now. I have the patience to devote this to you.”

McCree’s breathing was shallow and irregular and when Hanzo’s knuckles bumped against his hole he whined. Hanzo held still, running his other hand over McCree’s belly soothingly, deliberately avoiding touching McCree’s flushed cock. 

“Fuck me,” McCree groaned. “How is it different with you?”

Hanzo shrugged though he knew it wasn’t really a serious question. “I know what I’m doing, I suppose. Or maybe it’s different because it’s not your own hand.” 

Slowly McCree’s breathing evened out and the clenching around Hanzo’s fingers eased. As a reward, Hanzo curled his fingers and found McCree’s prostate again. He began rocking his fingers, slow at first and then faster and faster. They nudged right where McCree wanted them, sending sparks of sensation running up and down his spine. 

He began to grow. Fur began to sprout. With a sickening crack a tail grew and Hanzo paused, shifting out of the way so that he wouldn’t crush it with his weight.

Hanzo wasn’t fazed by it anymore. It meant that he was doing his job right. He fucked his fingers faster into McCree, emulating the punishing thrusts that drove him so crazy when McCree mounted him. 

“I don’t know where to look anymore,” Hanzo murmured, nearly drowned out by the wet sounds of his fingers, of McCree’s huffing breaths and needy growls. “You look so beautiful like this.” 

McCree arched. His claws dug into his skin. “I’m close, Han.”

“Good,” Hanzo murmured, watching precome begin to leak out of McCree’s flushed cock. He curled his fingers, pushed meanly against McCree’s prostate, and with a howl McCree came, muscles clenching tight around Hanzo’s fingers as if trying to hold him still.  _ Right there, right there! _

Hanzo fucked him through it, his own breathing coming rough and ragged. It was a shame that McCree had put away the remote; a single push of the dial and Hanzo would have come almost entirely untouched. 

He kept his fingers moving, rubbing against McCree’s prostate. McCree lost his grip on his legs but Hanzo caught one, keeping it arched up and open for him. Leaning close, Hanzo pressed a kiss to McCree’s knee. 

“Han!” McCree whined, his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m done Han, fuck.”

Hanzo chuckled. “You’re far from done, dearest,” he said. “Look at your pretty dick. You haven’t come yet.” 

Whining, McCree tipped his snout down and looked. Sure enough his cock was still hard, his knot only half-formed. His golden eyes widened and shot to Hanzo as if afraid. 

“Such a good boy,” Hanzo breathed, feeling his own cock leaking into the sheets. “You have more in you, I bet.” 

He managed to wrestle another orgasm from McCree before he begged for a break, tears of overstimulation streaming down his face. Then Hanzo rolled on his back, tugging McCree to sit astride his face, and buried his face between McCree’s furry cheeks. The taste of lube was unpleasant as was the tickling of his fur but the almost hurt-sounding howl that McCree gave when Hanzo pressed his lips to his stretched hole. 

This time it was his turn to be surprised, grunting when he felt a long tongue lap at his sensitive cock. McCree couldn’t  _ quite _ reach but his tongue made do, his snout just out of reach. Hanzo could feel his breath, could feel the tickle of his whiskers, and whickered when McCree continued to lap at his cock. 

Determined to outlast him, Hanzo wrapped his hand around McCree’s cock and closed his lips around McCree’s stretched hole. McCree  _ howled _ , his entire body jerking as if electrocuted. His come painted Hanzo’s chest, the warm shock of it enough to get him to come as well. 

They both took a moment to breathe. Hanzo eased his hand off of McCree’s swollen knot, eased his mouth and fingers away from his hole. It twitched beneath his gaze, trying to close up. Fucked sloppy by Hanzo’s fingers, shiny and pink. 

Perhaps next time Hanzo would get the toy. 

He twitched when he felt McCree rest his jaw on his belly. “Fuck. We’re a mess.” 

“I need to take a bath again,” Hanzo said, unable to muster the energy to be annoyed. 

McCree snorted. “Ain’t my fault,” he muttered. “Fuck I don’t think I can move.” 

Despite his words he managed to roll himself off of Hanzo, careful not to knee him in the face. “Do you think you can change back?” Hanzo asked, feeling unbearably smug to see how McCree’s limbs still trembled. 

“It’ll take a bit,” McCree replied. “But I think I can. I’ll do it in the shower, though.” 

Hanzo hummed. “What if I just want to stay here?” 

Laughing, McCree nudged his cold nose against Hanzo’s cheek. “The bathing you’ll need  _ later _ will be worse. Come on, all you gotta do is stand there. I know you can catch a few winks standing—I’ve seen you on the  _ Orca _ .” 

Not bothering to deny it, Hanzo groaned as he rolled off the side of the bed, catching himself on shaky hooves. “Very well,” he teased and wondered if he could convince McCree to another round in the shower. “But only if you do all the work.” 

McCree chuckled and rested a hand on his withers. “Hey sweet?” 

Hanzo turned and looked down at him, uncomfortable as he could feel their combined spend dripping along his barrel. “Hm?” 

Tipping his head back for a kiss—which Hanzo granted—McCree murmured, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you're all enjoying this. I've had a lot of fun writing these prompts. 
> 
> Thanks as always to [Kink](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for the encouragement and inspiration! ~~And for listening to me whine about everything under the sun.~~
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	5. Clothed sex, blood/violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts:** ~~Threesome~~ , clothed sex, blood/violence, ~~dirty talk~~ , ~~wrestling~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a weird few days. 
> 
> Warnings here for blood and discussion of canon-typical violence.

It all comes to a head. 

Months of hard work undercover. Months of abstinence. Months of following every small lead as surreptitiously as possible. 

It was hard to believe that it was all over. Hanzo realized that he’d  _ miss _ Copper and Sparkle the werewolf and the other assortment of friends that he and Brigitte had made during their time there. 

Having to fight them did put a dampener on their relationship though. So did having to wash their blood off of his hooves.

“Congratulations,” Winston said when they walked down the ramp. Their bags were slung over Hanzo’s shoulders and Brigitte, in her cat form, was curled up in a special bag on Hanzo’s withers. “Oh,” he said awkwardly when their appearances actually caught up with him. 

Hanzo snorted and continued walking while McCree lingered to speak with Winston. He paused near the workshop to let Brigitte jump off and when it didn’t look like she was in the mood to change back he promised to bring her bags to her later. 

“You’re tracking mud,” Genji complained as he caught up to Hanzo. 

He ignored his brother and plodded along, exhausted in ways he hadn’t felt in too long. 

“Hm,” Lúcio said, clearly more observant than Genji was at the moment. “That ain’t blood. Come on Hanzo, let’s get you cleaned up. Genji, grab his gear and take it to their rooms? Ah, that’s Brigitte’s there. I haven’t seen her around so she must be decompressing in the workshop. Genji, take those to Brigitte and the rest to Hanzo’s room, okay?”

It was nice to not have to think. Hanzo could almost understand why others of his kind might prefer their mindless pursuits. An animal didn’t need to think, it just had to follow direction. 

Hands touched Hanzo’ sides, tugged at his gear. He felt the straps sliding off, the weight changing. Lúcio patted his shoulders. “Come on, big guy,” Lúcio murmured. “Let’s head off to the wash racks.” 

Lúcio was gentle, leading Hanzo by the hand on his shoulder. The music that always seemed to linger around him—that Hanzo suspected was a kind of magic, albeit one he wasn’t familiar with—softened, became softer and more soothing for Hanzo’s more sensitive ears. He led Hanzo into the largest of their wash racks, left him for a moment to make sure that the rubber mats were in place so Hanzo wouldn’t slip on the slick concrete, and turned on the showers. 

Since he had arrived on base, the shower situation had dramatically improved. The first time he had been offered one had been more or less through a hose. Now they had upgraded the wash racks for the gym to include a stall large enough to hold him and had added more showerheads. The overall effect of it gave it a strangely luxurious feel that Hanzo very much enjoyed. 

Especially if McCree was with him in the showers. 

Lúcio led him into the warm water, grunting in surprise. At his shoulders, Lúcio laughed. “We got an upgrade to the hot water heater while you guys were gone,” he explained. “No more cold showers!” 

The sound of Lúcio’s chatter was oddly soothing. Hanzo let his upper torso sag, watched as the water ran red. Lúcio’s hands were gentle, rubbing Hanzo’s favorite soap into his withers and lower chest, into his sides and ribs. 

Hanzo let himself doze, letting himself feel the hard crash from an exhausting fight. At least Lúcio didn’t seem to be commenting on the mess of...stuff still clinging to Hanzo’s hooves and shoes. He let the water soften some of the dried bits and then, as gentle as he’d ever been with Hanzo, he eased the shoes off his hooves. 

“You’re almost due for a trim,” Lúcio said brightly, as if unbothered by the chunks of skin and...Hanzo didn’t want to think about what was on his hooves. 

Didn’t want to think of  _ who _ was on his hooves and how history always seemed to replay itself. 

Only, he didn’t think that Copper would get the same choice and opportunity that his brother did. 

Lúcio’s hands were gentle as he gently brushed the suds into Hanzo’s coat, getting rid of dried sweat and blood. The suds ran red before they were washed away. Lúcio just added more as if nothing had happened. 

He was just finishing up Hanzo’s tail when another set of footsteps entered. Hanzo perked up and Lúcio laughed, patting Hanzo’s wet flank as he left the stall. 

A moment later McCree entered, still fully dressed in his mission clothes and Hanzo whickered, excited. Ignoring that his clothes and shoes were getting wet, McCree stepped up next to Hanzo and wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s waist, burying his face in his chest. 

“It’s been a long day, huh?” McCree asked tiredly, his face mashed against Hanzo’s stomach. “Fuck. I’m sorry babe. I knew you liked Copper.” 

Hanzo reached down and lifted McCree, urging him to wrap his legs around his waist again, to loop his arms around Hanzo’s neck. The feeling of McCree’s wet clothes against his bare skin was incredibly unpleasant but it was nice to hold McCree against him. 

“I like you more,” Hanzo managed to say, nudging his nose against McCree’s cheek. 

McCree tugged him into a kiss and Hanzo sighed into it, letting his eyes slide shut. “I’m glad,” he admitted. “Babe, I was so scared.” 

Hanzo chuckled but it wasn’t mocking. “I was too, but not of Copper.”

And he hadn’t, really. Copper was smaller than him, hadn’t been trained in combat like Hanzo had. She had been more or less a pet, and would never stand up against Hanzo in single combat. 

It was her guards that Hanzo had been concerned about. To a lycanthrope and a tauros—and to Copper who did not have the traditional upbringing that Hanzo did—single combat challenges meant nothing. 

He had felt almost bad for breaking the lycanthrope’s jaw with a wine bottle and shoving the jagged remains of the glass neck into the tauros’s throat. And then Hanzo and Copper had clashed, their ears pinned and their hooves flying. 

But Copper wasn’t as wily as Hanzo, didn’t know how to fight like Hanzo. 

She wasn’t as cruel as he was, despite being one of the major players in a drug operation. Despite willfully drugging people—customers  _ and _ her own fellow staff members, she didn’t seem to care—with, for lack of a better description, a mind-controlling aphrodisiac. 

It was all ridiculous, something out of an ill-planned comic book. 

McCree ran his hands through Hanzo’s hair—still tangled and messy, not yet washed of sweat—and brought him back. “Where did you go?” he teased gently though his eyes were serious. 

“Nowhere,” Hanzo hummed, leaning in for another kiss. “I’m right where I want to be.” 

His boyfriend smiled. “You big sap.” 

Hanzo adjusted his hold on McCree, feeling him slip a little and paused when he felt something that was definitely  _ not _ a fold of cloth. He blinked and then blinked again. McCree looked a little embarrassed. 

“It’s just....it was wild,” McCree mumbled, looking anywhere but at Hanzo. “I know it upsets you but...seein’ you rear and kick like that…”

To McCree’s surprise (and his own as well) he threw his head back and laughed. “Were you hard this whole time?”

“Nah,” McCre was quick to reassure. “Just...seein’ you again and knowin’ that you were covered in blood was enough to get me goin’.”

Hanzo snorted. “So bloodthirsty,” he said, gentle in his teasing. He adjusted his grip on McCree so that he braced him with one arm. The other slid along McCree’s wet jeans until they found the hot line of McCree’s hard cock. He thumbed at the head, pressing meanly at it before releasing some of the pressure. 

Curling in on himself, McCree grasped at Hanzo’s arm. “Shit, babe. Put me down. Let me…”

“I think not,” Hanzo grumbled. “I think I will keep you right here. Your clothes are a mess, ayway.” 

“Mean sonofa-” 

Hanzo pressed his thumb down on McCree’s cock again, rubbing his thumb along the tip. He smiled when McCree’s voice jumped and his entire body jerked in his hold. Leaning in, Hanzo mouthed at McCree’s neck, hissing when he felt McCree’s claws digging into his shoulders. The pain only made him more determined. 

“Wait,” McCree hissed. “Wait, wait…” 

Reluctantly Hanzo stopped, ears pinning. He peered closely at McCree’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” McCree assured him quickly. “I just...I had an idea. Put me on your back?” 

Curious despite himself, Hanzo eased McCree around to his side and grunted when McCree grabbed hold of his mane to pull himself astride Hanzo’s shoulders. It didn’t hurt and he shifted, getting used to the new weight there. 

He didn’t like people on his back but he made exceptions. Still, he couldn’t  _ see _ them and it unnerved him. But he knew that he wouldn’t have that problem with McCree. Already he was leaning forward, wrapping his arms around Hanzo’s torso and pressing kisses to his spine and shoulders. 

“There we go,” McCree said smugly. “Perhaps not one of my brightest ideas but now I get to try something I always wanted.” 

McCree began to move his hips. Slow little arcs, almost like he were riding on Hanzo’s back—the kind of movements he did when Hanzo trotted, what McCree had told him was called “posting”. 

_ It feels like you’re humping my back, _ Hanzo had said the first time that McCree told him, and now he realized that in this case, that is what McCree intended to do. 

He shifted, braced his hooves, and reached back for McCree’s knees, tugging him closer against his withers. He could feel himself peeking out of his sheath and he sighed as McCree’s hands slid up his chest. 

“Fuck,” McCree breathed into one of his ears. It twitched and Hanzo arched his head, making a high sound when McCree’s left hand found one of his nipples. 

McCree’s wet clothes chafed, rubbed uncomfortably against Hanzo’s coat but he couldn’t find it in him to care too much. He was sure that to McCree it was on the edge of being uncomfortable. He grunted when he felt McCree’s mouth linger on his neck. 

“You can mark me,” he reminded McCree. “You can bite me, scent me, remember? It’s over.” Hanzo swallowed, feeling his tail lift. “I want you to. I want to smell like you again.” 

With a strangled curse, McCree’s hips stuttered and he gasped against Hanzo’s skin. Hanzo could feel him shaking, imagined that he could feel the heat of McCree’s come as he came in his pants, but that was just that—his imagination. 

“Fuck,” McCree hissed, shaking. “Fuck me.” 

Hanzo shifted. He was fully hard, his cock hot and heavy beneath him. “That can be arranged.” 

He didn’t need to see him to know that McCree grinned. “Nah,” he breathed as he lifted a shaking leg over Hanzo’s back. “I think I’m gonna kneel between your legs. And then, when I get you all cleaned up,  _ I’m  _ going to be doing the fucking.” 

Swallowing hard, Hanzo shivered. “ _ Hurry _ .”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone that's been leaving comments and kudos. I'm always happy to hear how much you are enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun writing it so I'm glad to see that it's enjoyed. 
> 
> Thanks also to [Lyall_Lupa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyall_Lupa/pseuds/Lyall_Lupa/works?fandom_id=3406514) and [Kink](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for encouragement, moral support, distractions, and as always, putting up with me when I start whining XD
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	6. Sensory deprivation (blindfold), praise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts:** Sensory deprivation, ~~edging~~ , praise, ~~role reversal~~ , ~~against/stuck in a wall~~

Brigitte yowled as she scrambled out of the way of a galloping centaur, her orange fur standing on end. 

“Sorry, Brig!” McCree yelled over his shoulder, clinging with his knees to Hanzo’s back. 

Snorting, Brigitte flipped her tail up and went to find a warm place to nap. It was safe here, in the gym. There wasn’t a chance of in on a horny centaur and his werewolf mate having sex. They already _had_ sex there and were running off to have sex somewhere else. She hoped it would be in their rooms. 

She wondered if those two idiots would ever go about telling each other that they wanted to be mates. Knowing them, that future wasn’t an inevitability, but rather  _ open _ —they were both stubborn, self-sacrificing bastards and it drove her crazy. 

But right now that wasn’t her problem. Right now, her problem was finding a nice, warm place to nap. Perhaps she could sneak into Hana’s room and sleep on her laptop. Turning, Brigitte flipped her tail up, the tip curling into a question mark, and trotted off in the direction of Hana’s quarters.

* * *

“Are you sure ‘bout this?” McCree asked nervously and Hanzo paused. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

McCree’s ears twitched, his snout wrinkling. “It’s not that,” he said slowly. Nearly fully transformed, it was harder for him to speak as his mouth lost the shape for human speech. “What if I hurt you?” 

Leaning close, Hanzo pressed a kiss to the side of McCree’s snout. “You will not,” he assured McCree. “We’ve done this before, remember?” 

Huffing, McCree nosed at Hanzo’s cheek. His tail wagged hesitantly. “Yes, but I wasn’t...blinded.” 

Hanzo chuckled. “Not even blinded by my beauty?” 

Despite his nervousness, McCree chuckled and pressed his damp nose against Hanzo’s throat, enjoying the simple pleasure of  _ smelling _ Hanzo. He still smelled like adrenaline and sweat with a lingering hint of blood and gunpowder. 

He smelled  _ clean _ and McCree shook when he realized that it was over—he could  _ mark him _ again. 

McCree whined, finding himself ridiculously eager for it. Smiling, Hanzo leaned close and buried his fingers into McCree’s thick fur, pressing another kiss to his snout. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hanzo murmured. 

“Try it?” McCree asked, his tail wagging. “Just for now? For a bit?” 

Leaning in, Hanzo pressed another kiss to McCree’s snout. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.” 

McCree’s tail wagged and he closed his eyes as Hanzo leaned back. A moment later the silk blindfold in Hanzo’s hand came back, draping itself over his eyes. Murmuring softly to him, Hanzo settled it and tied it behind McCree’s head. 

A part of him was scared. He was blind, he couldn’t see, and all he could think about was  _ what if, what if, what if _ . 

“Easy,” Hanzo murmured to him, his fingers digging wonderfully into McCree’s thick fur. “Easy, I’m here.” McCree’s tail gave a hesitant wag. His ears pricked forward. 

He could  _ hear _ like this. Not that he couldn’t before, but everything seemed different to make up for his lack of sight. His ears twitched, swiveling, listening to everything. He could hear Hanzo’s tail as it shifted along the bedspread, could hear the slight rasp of his hooves against the covers. 

McCree took a deep breath. He could smell  _ Hanzo _ , could smell his natural scent and the smell of crushed grass clinging to his hooves. The smell of the soap that Hanzo liked—that he could use again now that he was back on base. The plasticky, artificial smell of lube. Of leather. 

He sniffed around until his nose found Hanzo’s arm and the leather collar it held. McCree couldn’t remember getting so hard so quickly. Probably hadn’t since his werewolf “teenage” years where a stiff breeze could get his cock peeking out of its sheath. 

It was rare that Hanzo got out their collar. Usually it was only for special occasions and McCree supposed that this could be considered a special occasion. He whined, his tail wagging harder. 

“I should have asked you sooner,” Hanzo murmured, digging his fingers into McCree’s thick fur. “But...do you—”

“Please,” McCree grumbled, nearly incomprehensible in his excitement. His tail wagged. “Please. Please babe.” He tipped his snout up, baring his throat, and Hanzo ran a hand through the thick fur there. When he whined, Hanzo made a soothing noise and pressed the collar to McCree’s throat. 

There was another click as Hanzo fastened the leash to the ring at the base of McCree’s throat. He could feel the bed shift, could hear the sound of Hanzo’s hooves and fur against the covers as he shifted. The metal clip clicked, the nylon creaked as Hanzo tugged at the leash. 

“Come on,” Hanzo murmured and McCree could hear the subtle sounds in his voice that gave away his excitement. “I’m ready for you. You helped me get ready earlier, didn’t you, darling? Come on and claim me again.” 

McCree whined. He wanted nothing more than to lunge forward but without knowing where Hanzo is, without knowing that he wouldn’t hurt his ma—boyfriend. His  _ boyfriend _ because surely centaurs didn’t think about things like that. Didn’t think of mates and husbands. 

Now was not the time for such thoughts. 

“Come here, sweet,” Hanzo murmured, his voice deep with need. He whickered softly as McCree reached out his hands and felt for Hanzo’s hindquarters. 

He found Hanzo’s tail and followed it to his leg. A hand brushed a hoof, found Hanzo’s hock, and then his tailbone. Whining, he followed the tug on his collar and shuffled forward until his hips bumped against Hanzo’s hindquarters. He could feel the muscles beneath his hands shift, could feel and hear the hairs of Hanzo’s tail move as he lifted it. 

Hanzo gasped as McCree put more of his weight on his back and tugged on the leash. It forced McCree to crane his head forward, to bring his head and snout close to Hanzo’s shoulders and the back of his neck, kept him from leaning back to watch himself fuck Hanzo. 

Not that he could  _ see _ , McCree remembered with a whine. He could feel Hanzo’s tail against his belly, could feel it brushing against his aching cock. 

Surely it was leaking now, the knot at the base beginning to swell. 

“Mount me,” Hanzo said sharply and McCree whined, bucking his hips as he sought to bury himself in Hanzo’s hole. 

He missed that first thrust, felt his cock rub instead along Hanzo’s soft hide. Growling, feeling himself transform the rest of the way, McCree bucked his hips again. His paws slipped, his nails scraping against Hanzo’s thick skin. 

Hanzo groaned. “Come on,” he hissed. “Come on, dearest. Mount me. Make me yours again.” 

Whining, McCree wiggled his hips, shifted his legs, tried to find where he wanted to be. He grunted as Hanzo yanked his head further forward. By chance the tip of McCree’s cock found Hanzo’s hole. It slipped along Hanzo’s hindquarters and that last bit of movement tugged it just right. 

Baring his teeth, McCree dug his claws into the bed and  _ shoved _ forward. He couldn’t help but move, immediately humping Hanzo’s hindquarters, fucking into that tight heat that he hadn’t been able to mark for too long. 

His claws scraped against Hanzo’s sides as he struggled to maintain a grip, his teeth bared as he enjoyed the way that Hanzo cradled his cock, the way he clenched around him as McCree shoved himself deeper, deeper. 

“Oh,” Hanzo breathed, voice rough and ragged as his body was jostled with each punishing thrust. “There’s a good boy. So good.” 

McCree whined. He could feel his knot forming already, eager to lock itself tight. He wouldn’t last, he wanted to say. He was so close. 

“You’re so eager,” Hanzo gasped, yanking the leash again, making McCree wheeze. His eyes crossed as his paws scrambled against Hanzo’s withers and shoulders. His hips kept moving, kept churning, humping faster and faster into him. “Are you going to mark me again? Make me smell like you again?” He made a choked noise as McCree growled and bucked his hips harder. 

McCree panted, his mouth falling open. He was close, he was so close; he could feel his knot beginning to swell. 

So could Hanzo who lifted his tail higher, whined and made the bed groan as he shifted, tried to make more room for McCree. “Are you going to knot me? Such a good boy. Prove to me that I’m yours—prove to  _ everyone _ . 

_ Mate _ , McCree’s instincts screamed.  _ Mark him, he’s yours _ . He licked his snout, nearly-human tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Oh,” Hanzo breathed. “I can feel your knot. Make sure you plug me up. Keep me nice and full.” 

With a hurt-sounding whimper, McCree did. His hips stuttered through it, his knot swelling and locking them together. It felt as if it had been  _ ages _ since he had come—though he hadn’t come  _ in _ Hanzo, they certainly hadn’t been without their fun during their mission. 

Yet…

Hanzo groaned and clenched down around McCree’s knot, making him whine at the extra bit of stimulation. “Yes,” he hissed, his legs twitching. “Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you everyone that's been leaving comments and kudos. I love seeing the messages pop up in my inbox!
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


	7. Shower Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompts:** ~~Lapdances~~ , shower sex, ~~tentacles~~ , ~~sloppy seconds~~ , ~~drunk sex ~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so dang long. I....had a long week full of a lot of interesting issues which ate away at my desire to write centaur+werewolf porn lol. 
> 
> I had most of it written until _someone_ ~~*cough*[Kinkwatchafterdark](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey)*cough*~~ made me fall in love with Silver. 
> 
> ~~Mostly for the angst value because I love that sweet, sweet angst.~~
> 
> Unbeta'ed as always, so I apologize for my atrocious grammar XD

Sighing, McCree leaned heavily against Hanzo’s shoulders. “If I knew that it would be this stressful to be a parent, I wouldn’t have become a parent.” 

Hanzo snorted and McCree yelped when his long tail flicked him. Though Hanzo pretended to be annoyed with him, he knew that McCree wouldn’t have it any other way. A week after the incident with the kink club, McCree had gone back to speak with the local police force. They had been aware of Overwatch’s presence, though they had been...less than pleased about it. 

Fortunately (in their eyes) they were able to keep the credit even though Overwatch had done the grunt work. Overwatch was given the dangerous samples of the drug, and the local police and SWAT teams were given credit for the bust of a “cocaine” ring. 

In many ways, it was a win-win. 

McCree had been called back to discuss the evidence gathered and through what means. As the one providing backup, he was considered the mission leader. Though they hadn’t asked them to, Hanzo and Brigitte went along anyway. It irked the police, whose office wasn’t tall or wide enough for Hanzo to comfortably walk around, so Hanzo and Brigitte had gone on a walk together around town. That had been how McCree ended up alone in the back paddock of a nearby nursery. 

Because there was one more loose end that hadn’t been tied up. 

Copper had a foal. 

He was a tiny little thing, his withers barely at mid-thigh to McCree and he could tell that he was quite young—he was still mostly a ball of fur, he was all long spindly legs, and his tail was a short little nub, having not had much time to grow it out. The poor thing was thin and watched McCree with large, nervous eyes. 

From what McCree could see, despite the dark coloring of his baby fur, he would be a blue roan just like his mama. 

The person taking care of him, a tall palomino centaur female, explained that he hadn’t spoken since they rescued him and that they were still looking for caretakers for him. It would be hard, she had said grimly, since he didn’t speak and since he was a centaur. Not a lot of humans or shifters were well suited for the care and keeping of a centaur foal. 

McCree looked down at the little thing and found that he was staring up at McCree’s face. His human-looking parts made him look around eight and he sucked on the knuckles of one hand while he watched McCree. 

“Heck,” McCree muttered and reached into his pockets. He offered the foal a box of raisins. 

* * *

Hanzo’s nostrils flared and his ears flattened when he approached McCree. Even Brigitte stopped and looked at him in askance. 

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Brigitte said tactfully and trotted up the ramp to the  _ Orca _ . 

McCree cleared his throat. “Babe…”

“What have you done?” Hanzo hissed, his ears pressed flat. Oh, he was  _ angry _ , and McCree felt his stomach drop. 

“Look,” McCree said quickly. “Babe. I...I needed to. He’s all alone.” 

Hanzo didn’t look appeased. “How young is he?” he demanded. “Why doesn’t he have a family? A herd? What made you think that he was good to adopt? Like he’s some kind of pet?” 

Ah. 

McCree had wrapped his arms around Hanzo, buried his face in his stomach. “That ain’t it, you know it. He don’t got a herd, ‘least not one that anyone could find. He’s all alone, Han.” He swallowed hard. “His mama’s dead.” 

Hanzo stomped a hoof and shifted his weight. Then he put his hands on McCree’s head. He was still trembling. He seemed to be deciding what to say. 

“What happened to his mother?” Hanzo asked at last. 

McCree swallowed. “Copper.” 

He could feel Hanzo suck in a deep breath. 

* * *

McCree half groaned, half laughed when he heard the sounds of little hooves on concrete. 

Hanzo made a sound that McCree couldn’t describe, one that was a greeting, as Silver came bounding around the corner. 

“You found us!” McCree exclaimed as their foal bounced excitedly in place. 

Even after being with them for nearly half a year, Silver had yet to speak. Angie assured them that his vocal chords worked fine, and he occasionally made little sounds, but he seemed to have no interest in using his words. 

He looked much better now. His baby fur was nearly completely gone, replaced as McCree had expected, with the black and silver speckles of a blue roan just like his mama.

Elsewhere, away from the Terrible Bathtime Place, their dog SJ howled. Silver bounced on his hooves and shook the first two fingers of both hands in the air.  _ Hurry, hurry, hurry! _

“There will still be food,” Hanzo told him with an indulgent laugh, signing the words as he said them. 

Silver signed back, _We_ _ dog hungry please? _

McCree snorted. “Why don’t you go on ahead without us? I’m sure Aunty Carrot can help you get food.” 

That seemed to please Silver who trotted in place and signed  _ Aunty Carrot cat food _ . Then he cantered away, the both of them listening closely to make sure that he didn’t skid on the slick concrete of the gym floor. 

“That kid will be the death of me,” McCree laughed, burying his face in Hanzo’s damp fur, uncaring that his clothes were getting wet. 

Hanzo snorted. “I’m not sure who he takes after more—”

“The dog,” McCree said dryly. 

“Smarter Jesse has done nothing wrong.” 

McCree laughed. “We agreed that the dog ain’t named Smarter Jesse.” 

Stamping a hoof, Hanzo tossed his head though he was smiling when he said, “Do we want to discuss our children or do we want to enjoy the first  _ real _ private time we’ve been able to have in a while?” 

Hanzo scooped McCree up and pressed him against the nearby wall, swallowing his hiss at the cold against his back and at the unpleasant sensation of damp cloth. “Are you sure?” McCree teased when Hanzo leaned back. “You want to do this now?” Growling, Hanzo leaned in for a harsh kiss that left McCree breathless and with swollen lips from rough bites. 

It always seemed that McCree was getting his clothes wet in the shower. Perhaps it was a sign.

“When better?” Hanzo asked roughly, pressing kisses to McCree’s neck. “In bed?”

McCree laughed. Silver sprawled over the both of them, no matter how often they carried him off to his own bed; SJ slept where Silver did. After the first few weeks of it, they had given in and ordered a larger bed to fit them all. 

(More often than not, McCree still woke up pinned beneath Hanzo’s legs and smothered by Silver’s torso. He was fortunate that Silver’s long legs always ended up in Hanzo’s space. And he  _ liked _ waking up in a pile like this but he was terrified of when Silver eventually got bigger. They may actually be the death of him.) 

“No,” he agreed, tipping his head back to let Hanzo nip at his throat. He groaned, eyes sliding shut in quiet bliss. “I think this is good. This is  _ perfect _ .” 

Hanzo chuckled, halfway to a whicker. “I thought so,” he said too smugly, but McCree couldn’t find it in him to be upset. 

“It’s a good thing we’re in the shower,” McCree gasped as Hanzo lifted him higher to mouth at McCree’s chest. “We can wash away all of the incriminating evidence.” He groaned, burying his hands in Hanzo’s long hair. 

Hanzo didn’t respond, pressing McCree further into the wall, lifting him higher. 

“No,” McCree gasped. “No, babe, you’re gonna throw me over.” 

He groaned when Hanzo pulled back. “As if I would let you fall,” he grumbled but backed up and let McCree slide down, his legs hooked around Hanzo’s withers. 

“Put me down,” McCree begged. “I got an idea.” 

Hanzo snorted, tossed his head, but ultimately complied. He didn’t look happy about it and less happy when McCree ducked under his barrel. McCree waited out his nervous shifting, running his hands over Hanzo’s hind legs when he stilled, and reached for his prize. 

Behind him, McCree could hear Hanzo shift his front legs as he cupped Hanzo’s sheath in his hands, running his thumbs against the soft opening. When he turned, he found that Hanzo had splayed his front legs enough for him to peer down at McCree. His face was beginning to turn red from turning upside down and his hair fell in wet strands to the ground. 

He looked strangely unhappy for someone about to be the recipient of a blowjob, and McCree aimed to fix that. 

Turning back, McCree rolled the soft skin of Hanzo’s sheath, dipped his fingers into the opening. He smiled when they bumped against the tip of Hanzo’s cock as it swelled. Leaning close, McCree pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s belly, neck aching as he twisted it. 

But it was fine. 

When McCree turned back to Hanzo’s sheath, the tip of his cock was beginning to peek out and he leaned forward to press a kiss to it. He massaged the sheath gently, one hand reaching back toward Hanzo’s heavy testicles and he smiled when Hanzo grunted. 

He mouthed messily at Hanzo’s sheath, kissing the soft skin and toying with what bits of Hanzo’s cock began to emerge. Unsurprisingly, it was too big for him to wrap his hand around it but somehow McCree felt amazed every time as he tried to wrap his hand around it and failed. 

Behind him, McCree could hear Hanzo make a noise halfway between a whicker and a groan. He smiled against Hanzo’s sheath. “I love the sounds you make.” 

Hanzo snorted but before he could make a sassy retort, McCree mouthed at the tip of Hanzo’s cock. It was much too large for McCree to fit in his mouth and deliciously flared at the tip, but damn did he try. He lapped at it, both hands coming to stroke it as it continued to extend, further and further. 

McCree shimmied backwards, one hand supporting the weight of the shaft while the other worked at the soft skin beneath the tip. He pressed kisses along the side, letting his hands wander. 

“Wanna be covered in your scent,” McCree said deliriously. “I always mark you up but right now...right now I wanna smell like you.” 

He wasn’t sure that Hanzo could hear him. The water was rushing and McCree thought that he gave pretty mind-blowing blowjobs. Hanzo always seemed to enjoy them, at least. That’s what mattered. 

If McCree hadn’t been paying attention, Hanzo would have taken him entirely by surprise when he came. As it was, he only had a split second to prepare himself when he noticed Hanzo’s hind legs tensing, his knees bending slightly, before Hanzo was spurting thin come all over him. 

McCree gasped, working Hanzo’s cock through it, keeping an eye on Hanzo’s legs to make sure that he wasn’t in the way if they buckled. It’d happened before, fortunately not in the shower, and he didn’t want to have to explain to  _ anyone _ , much less Silver, what had happened in the showers. 

How he had been crushed beneath Hanzo’s barrel because he gave leg-shaking blowjobs.

But Hanzo remained upright (although his legs were still shaky) and McCree scrambled out from beneath him, hurriedly peeling off his layers of wet clothes. He laughed when Hanzo picked him up, pinning him against the wall. One of McCree’s legs was thrown over Hanzo’s shoulders; the other was held in Hanzo’s hand, pulling his legs wide open. 

It was painful, or would be if his mind wasn’t otherwise occupied. McCree knew in the back of his mind that he would be aching later, that he would definitely be walking funny. At the moment, he didn’t care even a little bit because Hanzo’s mouth was on him. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” McCree hissed, doubling over. He buried both hands in Hanzo’s hair, probably gripped one of his poor ears too hard, but his mind was full of static. 

Hanzo grunted, made an annoyed sound, but didn’t seem  _ too _ bothered because other than a twitch of his ear caught in McCree’s hand, he didn’t pull away. He grumbled and the vibrations that traveled up McCree’s dick made him gasp. 

He sputtered, caught a mouthful of water, and felt Hanzo swallow around him. “Fuck, babe I—”

Making pleased noises in the back of his throat, Hanzo yanked McCree closer, kept swallowing as McCree came. To him it felt like it just kept going, on and on. Hanzo’s hot mouth pulled at him, his throat working as he swallowed and swallowed until McCree was making low, wounded noises from overstimulation. 

Hanzo pressed kisses to the insides of McCree’s thighs, to his hips. He let McCree slide down, cupped his ass while he supported McCree in the air. 

“I’m not sure I can walk,” McCree croaked. 

Hanzo smirked. “A shame,” he said. “I can’t imagine that riding on my back while naked would be much fun.” 

Groaning, McCree leaned in close and kissed Hanzo. He could taste himself on Hanzo’s tongue and whined. “Babe,” he complained. 

Chuckling, Hanzo nuzzled against his cheek. “If we do not hurry, Silver may come back.” 

“I bet Aunty Carrot will keep him busy,” McCree replied but he did nod for Hanzo to put him down. They hurried through their shower, scrubbing down and drying quickly. McCree swung Hanzo’s blanket over his back and scrambled aboard to make it a faster trip to the mess hall. 

Silver bounded over, not unlike a puppy, and skidded to a stop in front of them as McCree slid down. He cocked his head to the side, his nostrils flaring.  _ Done fuck now? Food? _

“I don’t recognize that sign,” Ana commented from the table. “But it’s a good thing you two showed up: I think he’s been asking for fish.” 

“He seems to like bagels,” Hanzo replied. “With lox and capers and onions.” 

McCree blushed bright red; Brigitte, “Aunty Carrot”, cackled. “Where did you learn that word?” 

Silver’s ears swiveled. He cocked his head to the other side; SJ rose up on his hind legs and snagged the bowl of fruit from the table while everyone was distracted.  _ You fuck? _ Silver signed.  _ Done? Food? _

“We’ll talk about this later,” Hanzo told Silver whose ears lowered in submission. “Go take the fruit back from SJ and sit down for breakfast.” Hearing his name, SJ looked up, a large chunk of melon in his jaws. 

Hesitantly Silver turned around his front hooves and nudged his shoulders against Hanzo’s. He barely came up to Hanzo’s withers and tilted his head back to look adoringly up at Hanzo. With a low sound, Hanzo leaned down and put a hand on Silver’s back while he nuzzled the side of Silver’s head. 

The foal smiled adorably, his little tail wiggling happily, and nuzzled back. Then he bounded off, chasing SJ away from the bowl of fruit. He struggled to pick the big dog up, his spindly legs shaking with the effort, and in the end SJ was still standing on his hind legs. 

“I don’t think you’re  _ ever _ going to be able to pick him up,” Hana teased Silver who made a face at her. “You’re too tiny!” 

Wagging his plumed tail, SJ tipped his head back and licked at Silver’s cheek and face. He was still a puppy, as evidenced by his thick fur, long legs, and large paws, but already he was nearly the same size as Silver. 

Somehow. 

They were moderately concerned what he would end up looking like as an adult, if he was this large as a  _ puppy _ , but that was a problem for another day. 

Hanzo turned to McCree who patted his other shoulder with a wide grin. “What?” Hanzo asked. 

Laughing, McCree tipped his head back for a kiss which, with a snort at his silliness, Hanzo gave. “Nothing,” McCree murmured against Hanzo’s lips. 

Everyone else pretended not to notice their affection; Brigitte helped Silver make a plate of toast with avocado and tomato. She added a few thick slices of French toast with jelly and butter and they all pretended not to notice as she put a finger to her lips and Silver squealed in glee. Reinhardt put a plate of chopped meat on the ground for SJ and just like they did for Brigitte and Silver, everyone pretended not to notice that he included a few breakfast sausages in the pile as well. It seemed that everyone was willing and ready to spoil the kids rotten. 

McCree caught Hanzo’s chin and kissed him again. “Nothing,” he repeated. “Everything’s perfect.” 

Chuckling, Hanzo pressed a kiss to McCree’s cheek. “You should have washed better; you still smell like come,” he whispered and leaped away when McCree slapped at him. 

_ I’ll get you back, _ McCree thought but didn’t say. From the look that Hanzo threw over his shoulder, he knew it. 

For a moment longer he lingered in the doorway of the mess hall. Brigitte sat next to Silver as he ate his toast, his face already messy with avocado. The werecat was cutting his french toast into more manageable sizes while SJ ate noisily from his corner. 

Ana pushed a tray of food toward Hanzo while Reinhardt prepared a platter of whatever was on the stove for McCree. They moved to sit next to SJ and Silver, whose tails wagged happily that their dads were nearby and McCree was struck with how surreal this was. 

They may not  _ quite _ be mates but they already had a foal—a  _ child _ —together. Well,  _ two _ children if you counted SJ, who was almost as large as the child he had  _ actually _ been talking about. McCree paused in his meal and looked up at Hanzo. He was signing something at Silver that McCree couldn’t see—maybe scolding him for his vulgarity earlier, given how Brigitte was trying not to laugh—but McCree realized that two of the three boxes were already checked off. 

They had a child together. 

They had a dog. 

All they needed was a house. 

_ All they needed to do was get married _ . 

McCree swallowed the lump in his throat. Well, with a kid as young as Silver—and given their slowly advancing age—they couldn’t keep doing this. They couldn’t keep going on such dangerous missions, especially not together. It’s not like Silver and SJ wouldn’t be taken care of, but…

As if sensing his thoughts and his growing distress, Hanzo turned back toward McCree and smiled. He reached out and put a hand on McCree’s and he realized that he had been clenching his fist tight enough that the skin of his knuckles was drawn and pale. 

Taking a deep breath, McCree forced his hand to relax and tangled his fingers with Hanzo’s. He leaned to the side and bumped his hips against Hanzo’s lower shoulders. Hanzo whickered low in his throat and the sound made Silver look up, his ears pricked forward. Silver made a happy little sound.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked quietly. 

McCree smiled. Thoughts of retirement and marriage and homeownership could wait. For now, he had this moment with Hanzo, with their children, with the team, all gathered around for breakfast. “Yeah,” he said, squeezing Hanzo’s fingers in his own. “Now I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe it was Pix that suggested "Smarter Jesse" as the name of their dog and I liked that I could shorten it to "SJ", so thank you for the suggestion! 
> 
> Thank you also to [Kinkwatchafterdark](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) as always, for all of the lovely ideas, angsty and porny alike. And for all of the cute animal videos. And for giving me ideas for That Good Angst. 
> 
> The idea that Silver acts like SJ also came from Kink, as well as Silver using sign language to speak. 
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


End file.
